Hunter's Star
by Cap'nFrances
Summary: T'Pol and her team only needed a short visit to an uninhabited planet to complete an important survey for Starfleet, but things did not go according to her plan. (This story occurs between the episode Terra Prime and my story "A Ring and a Prayer.")
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of its characters. No profit was made or will be made by the creation of this work.

* * *

Rostov looked up from the transporter console and wiped his hand across his eyes. He had been scanning the planet below for the last six hours, watching for a break in the storm. It didn't help that Lieutenant Hess called him every hour for an update. They were all on edge, worrying about the two members of the away team trapped on the planet. She wanted to be manning the transporter herself, but in Commander Tucker's absence, she needed to be in Engineering.

Captain Archer's voice blared from the comm. "Two for emergency beam-out!"

Rostov examined the transporter display. He could see two signals, but he couldn't get a lock. Increasing the gain increased the noise as much as it boosted the signals. He raised the sensors' sweep frequency and re-tuned the Bayesian filters. That gave him a lock, but not an optimal one. Remembering the urgency in his captain's voice, he whispered a prayer and held his breath as he energized the transporter.

He sighed with relief when Commander Tucker and Commander T'Pol coalesced on the platform. They were crouched as if they were hiding from some unseen pursuers. Tucker had his phase pistol pointed at the far wall. He staggered as he stood up. T'Pol seemed to have been expecting that; she reached to steady him. Their uniforms were torn and covered with thick gray mud.

Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed rushed in. Phlox was a step behind them.

Archer said, "Trip, T'Pol, welcome back. We were worried."

Trip gave him a tired smile. "Thanks, Cap'n. It's good to be back."

Phlox scanned the two commanders. He grinned. "It looks like the transporter biofilters worked well this time. You can skip Decon, but I need to see you in Sickbay."

Rostov headed back to Engineering to update Lieutenant Hess.

* * *

As they left for Sickbay, T'Pol kept her hand on Trip's upper arm. Archer kept pace on his other side. When they reached their destination, Phlox settled the commanders on adjacent biobeds for a more detailed assessment. Archer and Reed waited behind the privacy curtain.

When he finished his scans, Phlox smiled. "Given the circumstances, I would say you're both quite lucky. You're exhausted and dehydrated and have a number of cuts and bruises but nothing serious. I expect Commander Tucker will be stiff and sore for the next few days.

"T'Pol, once I get those wounds treated, you can go back to your quarters to get cleaned up, eat, and rest. You need to be off duty for at least 24 hours. I want to see you tomorrow morning for follow-up."

Phlox turned to his other patient. "Commander, you've had a mild concussion. I'm tempted to keep you here overnight, but if someone escorts you to your quarters, I think that will suffice. You need to eat something, clean up, and go directly to bed. Come in right after you eat breakfast tomorrow so I can re-assess your condition. You should plan to be off duty for at least 48 hours."

The doctor handed each of them a large glass of a milky green liquid. "Drink this while I'm getting things ready."

T'Pol swallowed hers, ignoring the bitter, salty taste and the face Trip made when he took his first sip.

Phlox walked across Sickbay to his supply cabinets, glancing at the two waiting me as he went. "Captain, you and Lieutenant Reed are welcome to talk with them. It will take me a few minutes to prepare the treatments."

"Thanks, Doctor." Archer opened the privacy curtain and stepped over to Trip's biobed. Reed followed, a little more diffidently.

"How are you feeling?"

Trip said, "I've been better, but I should be fine in the mornin'."

The captain frowned. "You heard the doctor. You're off duty for at least the next 48 hours. I'm going to tell Hess if she sees you in Engineering, she's to call Security."

Malcolm nodded emphatically. "And when she calls, I'll be right there to escort you to your quarters and post a guard."

Trip held his hands out in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay, I get the message. Actually, a couple of days off sounds pretty good about now."

Archer turned to T'Pol. "How are you holding up?"

"I've had little opportunity to meditate for the last three days. Once I have meditated, I should be fine."

He nodded. "Malcolm told me what happened up to the point when the shuttle had to leave. What happened after that?"

* * *

**Author's Note** \- Many thanks to my wonderful betas, LoyaulteMeLie and DinahD. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

It had seemed like a simple mission. Ehiztari IV was a Minshara class planet the Vulcans had mapped 98.3 years earlier. They'd used a complicated naming system based on galactic coordinates, stellar classification, and several other factors. The results were unpronounceable, even by Vulcans. Humans preferred names they could pronounce, so they modified the Vulcan names. The new names were based on sounds in the Vulcan names, rather than on meaning. T'Pol had been intrigued when Hoshi commented that _ehiztari _meant hunter in Basque.

Little was known about the planet; it was in a strategic position between the borders of the Romulan and Klingon Empires, and it appeared to be uninhabited. Ehiztari IV sounded like an ideal spot for an Earth colony with a substantial Starfleet and MACO presence. Admiral Gardner had tasked _Enterprise_ with doing a preliminary survey.

After three days of intensive, focused study, T'Pol and her Science team had made extensive sensor readings from orbit that provided most of the necessary information. There was one crucial area in the Northern Hemisphere, however, where they could not get all the information they needed. Their readings suggested there had been a settlement there at one time, but they could not be sure how recently or if there were any current inhabitants. At that time of year, severe storms plagued the area; they disrupted travel, communications, and sensor readings. The storms often lasted for days. One was predicted to hit there in 2.3 hours.

"Captain, if we take a survey team to the planet immediately, we should be able to complete our work in 1.4 hours. That will leave an adequate safety margin," T'Pol said during the morning senior staff meeting.

Archer sighed. "A barely adequate one, but Starfleet needs those results as soon as possible. Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Mayweather, you're with T'Pol. Take whoever you need from Sciences."

Crewmen Liz Cutler from Exobiology and Ken Kishiyama and Jordan Miller from Planetary Sciences met them at the shuttlepod.

On the way to the planet, T'Pol briefed each team member on what they needed to do. As they approached the survey area, the shuttle was rocked by turbulence from the gathering storm, but Ensign Mayweather guided them to a smooth landing.

Their landing zone was on a prairie that ended in foothills a half kilometer away. The sea of purple grass was interrupted in several places by stands of trees. The trees were similar to Terran conifers except their foliage had a violet hue. T'Pol did not see any buildings, but there were a few grass-covered mounds that looked as if they might cover the remnants of structures abandoned long ago.

As they left the shuttlepod, the team members focused on their tasks. Thirty-seven minutes after landing, T'Pol's communicator beeped. Crewman Miller's voice was distorted by static. "Ma'am, I'm getting strange readings here. It looks like there could be a crashed ship in this vicinity, but the readings aren't clear."

T'Pol oriented her scanner toward his position. She tried three Vulcan protocols his Starfleet scanner couldn't run, but the results remained ambiguous. "The approaching storm is interfering with our scans, but it could be a crashed ship. There appear to be at least five humanoid life signs. Remain at your current position. I will rendezvous with you in less than one minute."

* * *

Trip was lying on his back under the Engineering console on the Bridge. For the last twelve hours, he had been climbing, crawling, and working in tight spaces and awkward positions, tracking down a sensor malfunction. T'Pol had been complaining since they arrived at Ehiztari IV about an intermittent sensor ghost that was making it difficult for her team to complete their survey. Trip had been trying to find the cause of the problem since she first mentioned it, but it was elusive. As soon as he had adjusted a setting or replaced a component, he found another aberration.

Now he was almost finished with the repair. He was looking forward to a hot shower to wash away the grime and ease his sore muscles. Maybe T'Pol would complete her survey in time for a quiet dinner and some neuropressure. He'd hardly seen her for the last three days.

Her voice over the comm startled him. "T'Pol to _Enterprise_. We have a problem. There appears to be a crashed ship 427 meters from my current location. We are picking up life signs. They are faint, but that may be due to interference from the storm. We need to investigate. I am transmitting the exact coordinates."

Archer shook his head. "You don't have enough time to investigate that and to get the survey data we need. I'll send another away team to the crash site."

Trip pushed himself out from under the console and sat up. "Shuttlepod Two is down for repairs."

Archer looked at Ensign Donahue, who was manning the Science station. "Are the atmospheric conditions okay for transporter use?"

She carefully surveyed her board. "Transporter use should be within acceptable safety margins for approximately another 46 minutes."

He turned to his Chief Engineer. "Trip, I need you to transport down with a field medic and a security crewman and see what's going on. You may have to hitch a ride on the shuttlepod to get back. It'll be a little crowded."

Trip smiled. "No problem. We're friendly." A crowded shuttle wasn't his favorite spot for spending time with T'Pol, but at least he'd get to see her. If he got lucky, they'd be the last two in Decon.

When he arrived at the transporter, the medic, Crewman Jorge Mendez, and the security crewman, Alyssa Bennett, were waiting for him.

* * *

Trip always found materializing in a new place to be disorienting. The wind was stronger than he'd expected. If it continued to increase, Travis would have quite a challenge flying the shuttle back to _Enterprise_. Thunder rolled in the distance. Lightning wasn't splitting the sky yet, but the smell of ozone told him what was coming. A fine mist hung in the air.

"Tucker to T'Pol. We're approaching the crash site. What's your status?"

"The storm appears to be coming in faster than expected. We are accelerating our survey and should be prepared to depart in twelve minutes."

"Roger that. We're checking out the crash site. I should have an ETA for you in five minutes."

The storm was interfering with his scanner readings. It looked like they were about 100 meters from the crash site, which was at the bottom of a ravine. Trees and brush obscured his view; the darkening skies gave the purplish vegetation an ominous appearance. He could not tell if there were any life signs.

"Let's go take a look," Trip said. Bennett went first as they made their way down the rocky slope.

When they were nearing the bottom of the ravine, Bennett shouted, "Look!" and pointed to a large metallic object almost hidden from view by the foliage. She hurried toward it.

Trip still could not get clear readings on his scanner, but he saw what looked like an energy buildup. "Bennett, don't go any…"

The explosion knocked him off his feet and left him dazed. Whatever that object had been, there were now only scraps of metal in a small crater. He looked around and didn't see any sign of crash survivors.

He ran to Bennett's side. Blood was trickling from her nose and ears. She was moaning softly but didn't seem aware of anything around her. Mendez was scanning her.

"Is it safe to move her?" Trip asked. "I don't think this is a good place for us to stay."

"We can move her if we have to. She needs to get to _Enterprise_ as soon as possible."

Trip took out his communicator. "Tucker to _Enterprise_. There was an explosion at the crash site. We haven't seen any sign of survivors from the crash. Bennett was injured in the explosion and needs to get to Phlox ASAP."

Archer's response was decisive. "Abort the mission. Get everyone to the shuttlepod and get back here as soon as you can."

"Roger that. Tucker out."

"Tucker to T'Pol. Whatever was at that crash site exploded and injured Bennett. No sign of any crash survivors. Captain wants us to abort the mission and return to _Enterprise_."

"I will have my team rendezvous immediately at the shuttlepod and have Ensign Mayweather prepare for takeoff."

"We should be at the shuttlepod in three minutes."

Trip asked Mendez, "Are you OK? Can you carry her back to the shuttle?"

"No problem, sir." He hoisted her gently into a fireman's carry and set off briskly for the rendezvous site.

Trip followed with his phase pistol out, scanning for hostiles. Raindrops spattered on his screen. They were entering a clearing near the shuttlepod when T'Pol emerged from the woods a few meters away.

Suddenly he heard weapons fire; he saw T'Pol go down. For an appalled instant, he thought she was dead.

"T'Pol!" he screamed. He dove behind a fallen tree and returned fire.

There was no cover near Mendez; he ran to the shuttlepod, carrying his patient.

Trip could tell through the bond that T'Pol was unconscious but alive. He wanted desperately to go to her, but he had to provide fire to cover Mendez and Bennett's escape.

_Focus, Tucker! You have to get them __**all**_ _out of here._

"Tucker to Archer. T'Pol is hurt, and we can't get back to the shuttle. Can you beam her out of here?"

"Negative, Trip. The storm has moved faster…" The rest of Archer's utterance was lost in the increasing static. He adjusted the gain and noise suppression controls, but nothing he could do gave him a usable connection to the ship. He prayed he could still contact the rest of the away team.

"Tucker to Reed. T'Pol is down. I found cover behind a fallen tree, but I can't get to the shuttlepod. How are things there?"

Malcolm's voice was broken by static, but Trip could hear the tension in it. "We're under fire too. Mendez and Bennett made it here. Kishiyama and Miller were both wounded. Cutler is treating them, but she said they need to get to the ship ASAP. Travis has the shuttlepod ready for takeoff. As soon as you and T'Pol are aboard, we're out of here."

"The storm is getting worse, and you have three wounded crewmen. You need to get out of here _now!_"

"Commander, we can't leave you here."

For Malcolm, protecting the _Enterprise _crew was a sacred duty. Trip knew abandoning two of his senior officers would be almost impossible for him. The fact that he was Malcolm's closest friend made it even harder. He had to help him walk the fine line between his sense of duty and his devoted friendship to allow him to do what had to be done.

"You can, and you will. Now get out of here. That's an order!"

"But, sir…!"

"No buts, Malcolm. You can come back for us as soon as the storm lifts. If you don't leave now, we'll all be stuck here."

There was a long pause. "Aye, sir. We'll be back as soon as we can."


	3. Chapter 3

Crosswinds buffeted the shuttlepod as it rose. Travis was an outstanding pilot, but could he safely guide the small craft through the rapidly worsening storm? Trip watched until it disappeared into the clouds.

Their attackers had stopped firing when the shuttlepod took off, but he wasn't sure they had retreated. He crawled to T'Pol. She was unconscious but breathing regularly. He let out the breath he had been holding. Her hair was matted with green blood that flowed from the back of her head down her neck. He knew that in humans, minor scalp wounds often bled profusely. _Sure hope that's true of Vulcans._ His scanner didn't show any injuries that would make moving her more dangerous than staying where they were.

He crawled toward the wooded area, dragging her feet first. He hated treating her so roughly, but it was the safest way to move her when they might come under fire.

During that morning's senior staff meeting, T'Pol had reported there was an extensive cave system in this area. If he could find an entrance, that might give them the shelter they needed.

Once they were a couple of meters into the woods, he stopped and scanned the area again. There was an opening in the hillside 10 meters away. He placed her in a fireman's carry, keeping his phase pistol out as he headed for the opening. When he peered inside, he saw a cave passage that soon led into inky blackness. There was no sign of the hostiles or dangerous animals as far in as he could scan. He crouched down and carried her inside. Once there, he spotted a nook where they could not be seen from outside.

The cave was chilly and damp. His scanner said the temperature was 12.2 degrees Celsius. That was cold for a Florida boy, but it was tolerable. For a Vulcan, it might be dangerous. Removing his field jacket, he gently rolled her on her side and put it under her head and back to cushion her from the cold rock floor of the cave.

He inventoried their supplies. He had a field jacket, a scanner, a phase pistol, a communicator, an engineering mini-toolkit, and a small bottle of water. A penlight and an extra power cell were included in the toolkit. T'Pol had the same things, except for the toolkit and the jacket. Her scanner was a Vulcan model, with better sensors and more processing power. That was great, but he would give a year's pay for a medical kit and some survival gear. Unfortunately, all of that had left with the shuttlepod.

The bleeding from her scalp had stopped. He took a cloth from his toolkit and moistened it with water before using it to carefully clean the area around the cut. To his great relief, the wound appeared to be superficial.

He scanned her again. It looked like the weapon the hostiles had used had a stun setting, but it had hit her with enough force to push her hard into the tree behind her. In addition to the stun, she had a mild concussion and some minor cuts and bruises. He sat with his hand resting gently on her arm, watching for any signs of trouble.

After a few minutes, she began to stir.

"Relax, T'Pol. It's OK."

She opened her eyes. "Commander, where are we? What happened?"

"We're on that planet you were surveying. We were attacked by some hostiles, and you were stunned. The storm got worse before we could get back to the shuttlepod. I found a cave for us to stay in while we wait out the storm."

She blinked a few times as if trying to clear her vision. "Tell me about these hostiles."

"I don't know much. I think they might be the survivors of that crash. When we approached the site, their ship, or whatever it was, exploded. I don't know if it was due to damage from the crash or if they deliberately triggered the explosion. Bennett was hurt when it blew up. Cap'n told us to abort the mission. Before we could make it back to the shuttlepod, they attacked."

"Could you identify their species?"

He shook his head. "I never got a good look at them or their weapons. They blend into the surroundings just about perfectly–probably adaptive camouflage.

He paused and tried to remember exactly what he had seen and heard. "I'd say they're humanoids, a little over two meters tall. As far as I could tell, they were completely covered by their clothes or armor or whatever. I don't think I saw any exposed skin or hair. It was pretty noisy, but I didn't hear them say anything. They didn't register clearly on my scanner. Maybe they're wearing sensor baffles. I'm not sure how many there are, but I'd say at least half a dozen."

His tongue pushed against his cheek while he thought of all the humanoid species they had encountered in the past four years. "I don't know what they were. Probably not Klingons or Andorians. None of us has ever seen a Romulan so it could have been some of them."

"But it is also possible this is a species we have never encountered."

He nodded. "Yeah. This would be one helluva first contact."

"Indeed. We cannot exclude the possibility that the conflict is simply due to a misunderstanding. We should try to avoid further contact until we can return to _Enterprise_ and analyze the situation."

"Sounds good to me. I just hope they play along."

"Did the rest of the away team return to the ship?"

"I think so. They all made it to the shuttlepod. The storm was pickin' up fast. I ordered Malcolm to leave without us. We've lost communications with the ship, but it looked like Travis was handling things OK."

"Ensign Mayweather is an outstanding pilot."

"Yeah, he is. How long do you think the storm will last?"

She looked at her scanner. "Based on the model we developed from our observations aboard _Enterprise_, and our most recent readings of local atmospheric conditions, I estimate that the storm will continue to intensify for another 4.2 hours. It will remain at approximately that level with some minor fluctuations for 44.2 hours. Then it should begin to dissipate."

His brows knitted in a frown. "We're not likely to be able to contact _Enterprise_ until the weather gets better, but it doesn't make much difference. Sending down a shuttlepod or using the transporter would be way too risky."

"Indeed. I am sure they will try to use the ship's sensors to monitor our situation, but they will be effectively blind until the conditions improve."

"So it looks like we're stuck here for a bit." He grinned. "At least I've got good company. Do you want to try sitting up?"

She nodded. He supported her as she sat up. She blanched and immediately laid back down, putting a hand over her mouth.

"The vertigo and nausea were severe. I do not believe I will be able to sit up until that subsides."

Trip nodded. "A stun and a concussion are a bad combination. I wish we had a medkit." He thought for a moment. "You should put yourself in a healing trance. That would help you recover a lot quicker."

"A healing trance is quite deep. This is not a safe place for that."

"I'll be here to protect you."

"But what if we need to flee?"

"If you can't sit up, you certainly can't run. I'd rather carry you when you're in a healing trance than when you're barfing all over me."

She glared at him and then sighed. "That is… logical. But you must promise me that if you need to flee, you will leave me behind."

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard you say! I can't leave you behind."

"You ordered Lieutenant Reed to leave us behind."

"That was different."

She gazed at him with a raised eyebrow. "It was?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, it was. He had six people he was responsible for. Three of them were injured crewman who needed emergency medical care. And you weren't going to be left alone. I'm here with you."

"But I do not wish to put you in danger, t'hy'la."

"And I don't want to be in danger, but I'll do what I have to do. Put yourself in that healing trance, and we'll both be safer, darlin'."

She glanced down and then brought her eyes back to meet his. "Very well. The trance should require less than six hours. If I am not conscious in six hours, you know what to do. Also, it would help if you remain in physical contact with me as much of the time as possible while I'm in the trance."

"I know." He put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead. "You just do what you need to do in that trance, and I'll do what I need to do." He prayed she would come out of it on her own. Slapping her was something he never wanted to do.

* * *

Author's Note: 12.2 degrees Celsius is equal to 54 degrees Fahrenheit.


	4. Chapter 4

Now that the shuttlepod had departed for _Enterprise_ and Trip had gotten T'Pol to a place of relative safety, the feelings he had ruthlessly suppressed during the firefight crashed into him, threatening to pull him under. The pounding in his chest amplified the thunder in his ears as he struggled to breathe. Emotions flooded him—shock, anger, desperation, guilt… Images of T'Pol being shot and thrown against a tree, lying motionless on the ground as green blood pooled around her; the shuttlepod escaping, leaving them behind. Thunder drawing closer, the whine of phaser fire, Jon's voice breaking up, his own voice ordering Malcolm to leave. The smell of ozone and copper blood. Lashing winds. Cold rain pounding his back.

His body was shaking so hard he was shaking her. He pulled his hand away, afraid his runaway emotions would pull her out of the trance much too soon.

_If you're going to help her, you've got to get those feelings under control. Deal with all that stuff when you're back on the ship._ He took three cycles of cleansing breaths before his heart slowed into a gentler rhythm.

The thunder in his ears eased to a soft ringing and the clenching in his gut to a trace of nausea. The throbbing pain in his head must have started when the crashed ship exploded, but he hadn't had time to notice.

He reached for her hand. _Think happy_ _thoughts_. He smiled as he imagined her in blue silk pajamas, surrounded by candles, the faint aromas of citrus and spice, her warm hands giving him neuropressure. Then he remembered why he'd needed neuropressure. A vivid image of Lizzie being murdered by the Xindi filled his mind. His muscles tensed, and his heart pounded, readying his body to leap up and rescue her.

_No. Lizzie's gone. There's nothin' you can do about that. You need to protect T'Pol._ Forcing himself to focus on feeling the rock floor under him and T'Pol's hand in his, he slowed his breathing.

He tried focusing their incredible night of lovemaking in the Expanse. Just as he felt a stirring in his groin, he remembered how crushed he'd been the next morning when she demoted him to a lab rat. But they'd moved beyond all that. He imagined taking her home to meet his family. Their warmth and exuberance might be overwhelming, but he knew they'd find a way to make her feel welcome.

Meeting her mother had been an experience he would never forget, but he had come to respect and admire T'Les. By the time she helped him dress in her husband's robes for her daughter's wedding, she'd seemed to respect him, too. Once again, he felt T'Pol's kiss lingering on his cheek as he stood watching her kneel to marry another man and then walk away from him.

He remembered the surge of joy he felt when Koss dissolved the marriage and his frustration and emptiness when T'Pol continued to push him away. He grinned as he relived the fiery kiss she'd given him to convince him to stay on _Enterprise_ after his return from _Columbia_.

It had been quite a reunion. They'd had so little time before they'd discovered baby Elizabeth. _Such an amazing child, with all her mother's beauty._ He'd imagined her growing up, them becoming a family and all the things they would do. But she was taken from them far too soon.

Trip still didn't know how T'Pol had survived losing Elizabeth only months after losing T'Les. But as devastated as he'd been by their loss, he cherished the deep intimacy they'd had when she finally let him share her grief.

He sighed. His brain seemed determined to play emotional ping-pong with him. Maybe this just wasn't the place for happy thoughts. He did another cycle of cleansing breaths.

Under other circumstances, he would have been excited about exploring this underground network. Caves like these often held stone formations of fantastic beauty. On an unexplored world like this, they might contain fascinating discoveries. But all he wanted now was to take T'Pol back to _Enterprise_ as soon as possible.

How long would they have before those goons discovered them? According to the scans T'Pol had done before leaving _Enterprise_, the cave network was extensive, but they knew almost nothing about the caves or who else might be hiding there. For a moment, he wished Travis was with them. His knowledge of cave exploration would be useful. Then Trip felt guilty; this wasn't a situation one should wish on a friend.

On his way in, he'd seen walls of bright white marble swirled with blue-black. Here in the twilight, everything was reduced to a uniform gray. Still, he was glad to be in the twilight. Near the entrance, he had noticed a strong odor of ammonia. _Animal droppings?_ _What kinds of critters live here?_ Glancing up, he'd seen scaly gray-green creatures the size of his hand hanging from the ceiling and the upper part of the cave walls — maybe the local equivalent of bats. He'd felt a shiver on the back of his neck.

On Earth, most bats were harmless and even beneficial to humans, but still, they made him uncomfortable. His grandad had told him too many scary stories about them when he was a kid. The creatures here had been motionless except for an occasional flutter of a wing. Perhaps they were sleeping or hibernating. He didn't want to get up real close and personal with the creatures to find out.

As he'd moved deeper inside, the odor had changed. Now it smelled more like the loamy soil in his mother's garden. In this twilight area, there was likely to be less animal life because food was so scarce. Deeper in the cave, there might be none.

A bug ran across his hand. He tried to slap it, but it moved too fast. Should he pick up T'Pol and move further in? There was a good chance that would get them away from most of the bugs.

He listened to the storm outside. Even this short distance into the cave, the sounds were muffled, but what he could hear told him the rain was heavy. He didn't know how deep this cave system was or how water flowed through it, but with this weather, the risk of flooding was high. The smart thing to do would be to stay as close to the entrance as possible. As much as he hated bugs, he was sure he would hate drowning even more.

But if the hostiles reappeared, he would have to risk moving further in. Knowing so little about them, it was impossible to predict what they would do. He didn't know what they wanted or what their capabilities were. Was their vision better than his? How about their hearing? Could they find him by scent? What sort of sensors did they have? He didn't even know how many of them there were.

There was no way to answer those questions. The safest thing was to be as quiet and invisible as possible. Sitting in the dark and hearing only the muted sounds of the wind, the thunder, and the rain, he thought he knew how Helen Keller must have felt.

He wanted to use his penlight to look around, but he needed to be careful with that and with the light from the scanners to avoid being detected. He hadn't thought about his field training in Starfleet Officer Candidate School in years, but suddenly he was struck by an old memory. One of the instructors, a MACO Gunny named Andrews, had ripped him a new one for being careless with his flashlight during night ops.

"Tucker, you idiot! Your lousy light discipline won't just get your worthless ass shot. I don't give a damn about that, but you'll get your entire patrol killed!" He had screamed red-faced for almost ten minutes, his language becoming more colorful as he went. At the time, Trip had thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Now he understood.

But the dark was as much of a hazard as the light. Cavers have a saying, "Light is life." Caves were filled with unseen dangers that could lead to anything from a twisted ankle to a fatal fall. If they had to move from their current location, they would need to be cautious.

They would have to make some use of their light sources. His penlight's intensity could be varied from bright to dim, and the width of the beam could go from narrow to broad. He set it for the dimmest and narrowest beam. Then he checked their scanners. At its brightest setting, they could be used as flashlights, but he could decrease or turn off the backlighting as needed.

They could also be used in audible mode, but sound was a problem, too. The nook where they were hiding was only a few meters from the cave entrance. The sounds of the storm made it less likely anyone would hear them, but even here, the sounds were muffled. If they had to go further, it would be silent except perhaps for dripping water. Any noise they made would be detected. They didn't have an earpiece for the scanners, so he turned off the audio. That meant that no one could see or hear what they were picking up unless he changed the settings, but they would continue to record data. That data would be invaluable to the Science team when they returned to the ship. More importantly, if they needed to move further in, they would record their path. Since they had no map, that was their best hope of not becoming utterly lost.

Even with the backlighting and the sound turned off, the scanners had a tactile alert function he could set to warn them if the device detected specified conditions. He put his in one of his uniform pockets and tested it to be sure he could feel the vibration but not hear it. Her uniform didn't have any pockets. She could use the shoulder strap to carry hers so her hands would be free. He checked her device while holding it against his side. Then he programmed both of them to alert to readings that suggested dangers like approaching hostiles or rising water.

His night vision was much better than hers. They would have to rely on his vision to find their way with what little light they used. Once she was awake, her Vulcan hearing would help compensate for the limitations of his Starfleet scanner and his human hearing in monitoring for hostiles.

How could they communicate? Deeper inside, even a whisper would stand out. She'd told him that once their bond matured, they might be able to share thoughts when they were not in physical contact. But the bond was still in its early stages. He was aware of her feelings and sometimes got a snatch of an image, but he couldn't communicate with her without speaking. Often, the bond amplified their feelings as each reacted to the other. Sometimes that brought them extreme pleasure, but when it occurred at the wrong moment, it was a tremendous distraction. A distraction here might be fatal.

When their feelings were painful, they could rapidly become overwhelming. After Elizabeth's death, T'Pol had taught him how to block the bond to protect himself when he needed to focus and to protect her when his feelings were too strong.

His head jerked up as he was struck by an alarming thought. _Could those goons be telepathic?_ That would give them a huge advantage - even more reason to block the bond. He hated being cut off from her, but he would have to do it until they were safely on _Enterprise_.

When he was a young cadet, he would have found the prospect of spending two days alone in the dark with his girlfriend very appealing. Now it filled him with dread. Images of T'Pol being shot and lying bleeding on the ground plagued him. When he tried to put those out of his mind, he imagined her being abducted by the hostiles or falling down a bottomless hole in the cave's floor.

He shook himself. _Get a grip, Tucker. Compartmentalize what happened, stay calm, and come up with a plan to get her out of here. _

The urge to get up and look around was almost irresistible, but he needed to stay in contact with T'Pol and be as quiet as possible. He had to control his racing thoughts. When they got back, he would ask her to teach him to meditate. He'd sat with her for hours while she meditated and had even intruded on her white space. If he imitated what he had seen her do, would he be able to meditate?

As he started to take off his boots, he realized he might not have time to put them back on if they had to flee. Without letting go of her hand, he moved into a cross-legged position. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing as she'd taught him for neuropressure.

He sought her white space but instead found himself somewhere that varied between misty gray and coal black. He tried to change that to the quiet Gulf Coast beach near his Aunt Theresa's house, but he couldn't find that either. After a few minutes of increasingly erratic thoughts and disturbing images, he knew he needed to try something different.

He opened his eyes. The numbness in his feet competed with the soreness in his butt for his attention. _Gotta use a meditation cushion next time I try this._ He untangled his legs and moved them as much as the cramped space would allow.

What could he do to occupy his mind? He thought back to his previous experiences with caves. Most of Florida was built on limestone karst with its many caves, sinkholes, and underground rivers. When he was in grade school, he'd visited Florida Caverns State Park on school field trips. Some caves they explored there were considered wild caves, but they were tame enough to be safe for ten-year-olds to visit with their teacher and a ranger.

The speleothems - stalactites, stalagmites, columns, soda straws, ribbons and flowstone draperies in colors ranging from glittering white to burnt sienna and raw umber - had amazed him. He'd been even more amazed when his teacher had told them it had taken tens of thousands of years for them to form from the slow action of water on stone. For a moment, he was filled with the wide-eyed wonder of a young boy discovering a new world for the first time.

The next time he'd been in a cave was a few months before _Enterprise_ launched when he'd taken Natalie on a weekend getaway to Lake Shasta. When Trip had heard about the cave tours there, he'd thought they sounded like fun. Natalie wasn't a woman who would enjoy crawling through the mud, but the park brochures said the cave had lights, handrails, a snack bar, and a gift shop. How bad could that be? He'd thought the cave was beautiful; she got mud on her new shoes and complained to him about it for days.

They'd been in space for almost two years before he encountered another cave. On Xantoras, he went with Malcolm and Travis to help extract a trio of Denobulan geologists. The three scientists had been studying the caves there for months when rebels overthrew the government. The new regime was highly xenophobic. They decreed that all aliens had to leave the planet within three days. Any who remained faced imprisonment or worse. _Enterprise_ had been the only ship close enough to help.

The mission had almost ended in disaster. Because of an equipment failure, he and Malcolm had nearly fallen to their deaths, and Travis had broken a leg. When they were working on their after-action report, they'd realized how poorly prepared _Enterprise_ was for many of the away missions they faced. When Starfleet had equipped the ship, no one had known what missions they would take on or what conditions they would encounter. They'd still been working on those issues when Admiral Forrest had moved up their launch date by three weeks so they could take Klaang back to Qo' noS. They'd left without most of the specialized equipment and training Starfleet had planned to prepare them for away missions.

Their first mission had been such an unexpected success, Starfleet had directed them to continue their shakedown cruise without returning to Spacedock. So much had happened in those first two years they'd never taken the time to examine the gaps in their equipment and training for away team missions. When they did, they identified multiple environments they weren't adequately prepared for. They discussed their findings with the Captain. He had tasked them with filling as many gaps as possible and developing recommendations for Starfleet on what needed to be done when they returned home and what should be standard equipment for the ships that would follow them.

Trip and Malcolm had worked with Travis, T'Pol, and other crew members who had experience in areas like mountain climbing, desert survival, and working under the ocean. Trip and his engineers had fabricated most of the recommended equipment. They organized it into two groups. Core survival and exploration equipment for multiple environments was packed in rucksacks in each shuttlepod. They stowed specialized gear for each environment in lockers in Cargo Bay One. An extra set of the core gear was stowed in the transporter room.

On this mission, Bennett had been carrying most of that. She'd still been wearing the pack when Mendez took her to the shuttlepod.

Ideally, the crew members going on away missions would have trained in realistic environments on Earth or other friendly planets, but that would have to wait until _Enterprise_ was home for a major refit. To bridge the gap, they'd offered computerized simulations and hands-on drills with the equipment. To raise the interest of the crew in the training, on several movie nights they'd shown films set in the environment they would learn about the next week. Each person who completed the training had been encouraged to put in a request to Starfleet for more training during the refit.

Trip had requested a cave diving course. As a child, he'd been fascinated when he'd read about exploring Florida's underground rivers, but his parents had insisted it was too dangerous. He had become a certified scuba instructor and an expert free diver, but cave diving demanded additional equipment and skills. When he was old enough to take lessons without his parents' consent, he was a student at MIT. By that time, his eyes were fixed on the stars, and cave diving was a long-ago dream. Now, as he listened to the rain fall, he wished he'd taken that training.

Sitting in the twilight, he tried to remember everything he knew about caves. Early humans had found shelter in them. In popular culture, they shared them with long extinct dinosaurs and saber-toothed cats. He grinned as he imagined Fred Flintstone's "Yabba Dabba Doo!" echoing through the cave. He'd loved watching the Flintstones as a kid. Unfortunately, Fred wasn't likely to drop by to invite them to dinner. The cave he shared with Wilma would have been a lot warmer and more inviting than this one.

His stomach growled. Not surprising — a nightmare had awakened him at 0300. Trying to go back to sleep was pointless, so he'd gotten dressed, grabbed some coffee, and started working on the sensor malfunction. By the time Chef had breakfast ready, he had worked his way into such an awkward spot in an isolated crawlway he didn't want to climb out just to go to the Mess Hall.

At 1400 Anna Hess had found him at his desk poring over schematics. She'd brought him one of Chef's new gourmet sandwiches — curried chicken salad with raisins, bits of apple, and toasted almonds, green leaf lettuce and sliced tomatoes on freshly baked multigrain bread — along with baby carrots and strips of red and yellow bell peppers. For years, he'd been convinced Anna was secretly in league with his mother to get him to eat more vegetables. Now he thought she got her orders from T'Pol. Or maybe it was just because Ensign Richards and the crew in Hydroponics were so proud of their new crop. The sandwich had been tasty, but he'd only eaten half of it before Rostov called to tell him he thought he'd found the problem in a sensor relay near the bridge. Worse than that, he'd left his dessert, a pecan chocolate chip brownie, sitting on his desk.

Thinking about food now only made him hungrier. He stretched his arms over his head as far as he could without banging his hands on the rough ceiling. He was beginning to feel like the Tin Man, but this certainly wasn't Oz.

What else did he know about caves? Long before the Flintstones, caves were important in many human cultures. Forty-thousand years ago Paleolithic people created paintings in caves. The Cave of the Patriarchs, the Dead Sea Scrolls, Mohammed receiving the Qur'an in a cave, the cave temples of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism, Plato's Allegory of the Cave… Lots of fascinating stories and places but none of them seemed to have any relevance to their current predicament.

His mind drifted to images of T'Pol being shot or killed by falling rocks or just walking away from him, never to return.

_Stop that! You need to focus._ Thinking about the science of caves might be more helpful. Like Earth, Ehiztari IV was a water world. Water had been dissolving the bedrock here for millennia to form this cave.

Most caves on Earth formed in stone made from the remains of countless ancient sea creatures. In some places, that limestone had been transformed into marble as tectonic plates moved and created mountains. Caves in a few areas, like Earth's Sierra Nevada Mountains, were carved primarily from marble. From what he'd seen so far, this cave seemed to be as well.

The atmosphere here was 0.06% carbon dioxide, significantly higher than Earth's 0.035%. That made the rain more acidic and increased the erosion of the bedrock. It also contributed to the long and intense storms the planet endured.

Near the entrance, he'd seen those bat-like creatures. On Earth and on planets like Xantoras, cave entrances provided shelter to animals like raccoons, cave swallows, crickets, and salamanders who returned to the surface to find food. The twilight area was a habitat for those who preferred the cave but could survive outside when the conditions were right.

Beyond that area, in the complete darkness, the few organisms who lived there spent their entire lives in the cave. Most were invertebrates like spiders, snails, and millipedes, but there were also fish and salamanders. As they'd adapted to the darkness, many had lost pigment and appeared a ghostly white. Most were blind, and many did not even have eyes. Their appendages were elongated, and they developed other senses to help them find their food. Even the ones on Earth seemed to Trip as alien as anything he'd encountered in space.

Thinking about the spiders made him shudder. Cave spiders on Earth were usually small and harmless to humans. That didn't reassure him as much as the fact that only a few lived in any one cave. A cave biologist might have to search for days to find a specimen. He hoped they were equally rare and harmless here.

Microorganisms were much more common. Some microbes discovered in caves had lifesaving medical uses. If he had a few specimen containers, he could bring samples back for Phlox. Then he remembered what had happened to Hoshi and him with that silicon virus. Echoes of the shaking chills and bone-deep aches moved through him. Worse than that, something might infect T'Pol. He knew that was unlikely, but the image of her coughing and shaking with fever refused to disappear.

He scanned her again. The program warned him her heart rate, blood pressure, and respiratory rate were very low. _That's normal for a Vulcan in a healing trance, isn't it?_

He tried to focus on what he'd learned about caving from Travis and in the simulation training. T'Pol had been at an astrophysics conference during the week they'd dealt with caves. _Wonder if she knows much about caves?_

The caving documentary they'd shown for movie night, _Journey Into Amazing Caves_, had featured two young women, Nancy Aulenbach and Dr. Hazel Barton, who were the first to explore a little-known cave near the Grand Canyon. They then explored an ice cave in Greenland and underwater caves on the coast of Mexico. Trip had been startled to see women taking such prominent roles in a late 20th Century expedition, but as he watched more, their skills and courage awed him. He soon realized their small frames gave them an edge in a world of low ceilings and tight spaces.

T'Pol would find it easier to maneuver here than he would with his greater height and broader shoulders. He wasn't sure, but he thought the hostiles were taller and bulkier than he was.

Perhaps they could use that to their advantage.

For safe caving, they should have a team of at least three people. If someone were injured, one person would stay with the injured caver while the other went for help. It would be great to have someone he could send while he protected T'Pol, but for the next two days, there was no way to reach anyone who wasn't trying to capture or kill them.

They should also have someone waiting outside the cave to summon help if they didn't return on time. Captain Archer would send an away team if they didn't contact the ship as soon as the storm cleared. Unfortunately, no one on _Enterprise_ knew they'd entered the cave.

Had Malcolm and the others made it back to the ship? Travis was an excellent pilot, and the shuttle seemed to be doing okay when it had disappeared into the clouds. They should be fine unless they were attacked. The hostiles might have called for help. The shuttle would only have been at risk for a few minutes, but _Enterprise_ would be in danger as long as they stayed in the system. He wished he'd had time to brief Rostov on the repairs before he'd left. Properly functioning sensors would be invaluable in dealing with a hostile ship and in locating the two of them once the storm began to lift.

He scanned his companion again. No change. Shouldn't he see some change in her condition by now? How had she come up with that six-hour time limit, anyway?

_Guess I should scan myself, too._ When he finished the scan, the device asked him a series of questions to check his memory and ability to function. He would have to be pretty out of it not to know what ninety-three minus seven was, but if he stayed in the cave much longer, he might have trouble with the questions about what day it was.

The scanner reported he had a grade one blast-related concussion and several cuts and bruises. The recommendations weren't a surprise — 25 mg of inaprovaline twice a day, at least 24 hours of physical and cognitive rest, stay warm and hydrated, clean the cuts, and apply dermaline gel. Plus he should eat something and take 10 mg of hydrocortilene for his headache. He shook his head. _I should just keep a hypospray of inaprovaline and a couple of packets of dermaline gel in my pockets._

His injuries were minor, but worries about T'Pol were gnawing at him. How much did that program know about Vulcans? She was pale, and her hand was cold, but she didn't seem to be in distress. He had no idea how to monitor a Vulcan healing trance or what to do if he noticed a problem. Images of her vomiting or convulsing or just never waking up flooded him.

He sighed; he wasn't a doctor or a Vulcan healer. _Forget about what you can't do. Focus on keeping T'Pol safe and getting her back to _Enterprise_. _

He checked his scanner. The storm was intensifying, but there was no sign of the hostiles or of rising water.

During the cave training, he'd learned a lot about how to move through tight spaces, ascend and descend, deal with rising water and with the many other hazards found in caves. Much of that relied on having the right equipment and supplies. Without the shuttlepod, they were poorly prepared for this unexpected detour. He would have to improvise with what they had. He began working his way through the caving equipment checklist.

_Three or more sources of light per person._ If you counted the scanners, he had two sources, and she had one. Using a scanner as a light source would be awkward at best. They should also have spare power cells. He had one in his toolkit, but they had seven devices — two scanners, two phase pistols, two communicators, and a flashlight — that might run low on power. He hoped they wouldn't need to use the phase pistols, but if they had to fire many more times, they would exhaust the power cells.

_Food_. At this point, he'd be thrilled to have some carrots and pepper strips to share with T'Pol. Hell, he'd even take Starfleet emergency ration bars. They tasted like sawdust and had the texture of stale bubble gum, but he'd give a month's pay for a dozen of them right now.

_Water._ They had two 250 ml bottles. Ideally, he should consume at least two liters a day. She could go for a few days without water, but he wasn't sure that was a good idea with her injury. There might be a stream in the cave, but water in caves was often contaminated. They could check it with the scanner, but this was an almost unexplored world. Toxins or dangerous microbes wouldn't be identified if they were unlike anything in the database.

_Medical kit._ That had gone back to the shuttlepod with Mendez. T'Pol would probably be fine after her healing trance, but he had a bad feeling they would need the kit before they returned to _Enterprise_.

_Rugged clothes._ He hadn't taken the time to change into an excursion uniform, but his working uniform was sturdy. Fortunately, he'd taken a moment to grab a ball cap and a field jacket. His flight suit might not keep him warm if it got wet, but the jacket would help. He didn't know how warm or sturdy her catsuit was. Maybe he should insist she wear his jacket. She'd claim that with her Vulcan physiology she didn't need it, but he worried she would have difficulty with this cold, wet environment.

_Boots._ At least they both had those. They weren't ideal for caving, but they should be good enough.

_Elbow and knee pads._ If they moved from their hiding place, they'd probably need to crawl. A little padding would prevent a lot of pain. His flight suit and the Henley underneath would protect his elbows, but there was only one layer of cloth protecting his knees. He took the duct tape out of his toolkit and tore off strips to reinforce his flight suit over his knees. He did the same for his elbows, just in case.

_Gloves._ Another handy thing they didn't have. He might not be much use as a hands-on engineer their first day or two back on _Enterprise_.

_Climbing helmet with headlamp._ If he could have just one piece of gear, that would be the one. Caves offered endless opportunities for head injuries, and holding a light in one's hand was just not as practical as a headlamp. He took off his ball cap and turned it upside down. The cloth he'd used to clean her wound had dried as much as possible in such a damp environment. He folded it loosely and put it inside the cap. Just under the cloth, he used two strips of duct tape at right angles to create a suspension. It wouldn't give his head much protection, but it might help. He taped the penlight to the bill of his cap and checked to make sure he could still use the slider to control the brightness and move the bezel to adjust the width and angle of the beam. He wished he had something for T'Pol, but if he was going to lead, he would need the improvised headlamp. She was 25 centimeters shorter than he. Hopefully, she was small enough to avoid bumping her head.

_Climbing gear._ His scanner range was limited here to roughly 50 meters in the cave's passages and 10 meters through the rock. He couldn't see enough to be sure, but he suspected the cave had multiple levels. With the right gear, ascending and descending to other levels would be relatively easy. Without it, it would be somewhere between risky and impossible.

_Waste disposal units. _When they were packing the shuttle for the mission to Xantoras, he'd thought Travis was kidding about the waste disposal units. He'd since learned caves have unique and delicate ecosystems. Something as simple as touching a speleothem or tracking mud into a part of the cave where it wasn't muddy could cause damage. They would be as careful as they could, but some damage was inevitable. At least their lack of food and water would limit the harm from human and Vulcan wastes.

_Cave packs._ Since they had so little to carry, he wouldn't miss those too much. What they had should fit in his pockets.

He shifted his position, trying to somehow find comfortable seating on the cold, rocky floor. Helen Keller drifted into his thoughts again. Was she the answer to their communications problem? She'd learned to communicate by fingerspelling into her teacher's hand and having her teacher fingerspell to her.

As a kid, he'd done a lot of fingerspelling. Trip's cousin Patty had been born with a rare form of deafness that wasn't helped by cochlear implants. His mother and several other family members had learned American Sign Language to help her communicate. Human babies can learn to sign before they learn to speak; his mother had started teaching him to sign when he was six months old. When he was three, he'd learned to read and then to fingerspell. He and Patty loved to go to the movies and spell snarky comments into each other's hands all through the film.

He ran through the alphabet and the numbers. It had been years since he'd done it, but his hands still knew what to do.

He'd long ago given up trying to predict which offbeat things T'Pol would know. She might be able to fingerspell. If she couldn't, he could trace letters on her palm. It would be slower, but it should still work.

Trip yawned. _Too bad there isn't a bed down here._ _Of course, sleepin's not on the agenda for a few more hours._

Five hours and 58 minutes after she entered her trance, T'Pol opened her eyes.

* * *

Author's Note - Earth's atmosphere contained 0.028% (280 ppm) carbon dioxide from 10,000 years ago until the mid- 18th Century. By May 2019, that level had risen to 0.0415% (415 ppm), the highest level in the last 14 million years. I hope by the year 2155, we will have made significant progress in restoring Earth's natural systems. If you're curious, Wikipedia article "Carbon Dioxide in Earth's Atmosphere" is a good place to start.


	5. Chapter 5

"How are you feeling, darlin'?"

"Much better. The headache is gone."

"Let me get a quick scan." Trip compared T'Pol's latest readings with the others he'd done. The tension in his shoulders began to ease. "Looks like that healing trance did its job."

"I should try to sit up."

He supported her as she moved. She still looked pale, but at least she could change positions without distress.

"The vertigo and nausea have resolved. I believe I will be able to function normally."

"That's good to hear." He opened a bottle of water and gave it to her. "Try a few sips."

She took a cautious sip. "That was refreshing. You should do the same."

He drank a gulp from his bottle before replacing the lid. "Are there caves like this on Vulcan?"

"No, not like these. Vulcan is predominantly a desert world. Caves formed by the action of water are small and rare, but we have many lava tubes and eolian caves that were formed by wind blowing sand against a rock face. Most are in the Forge, a quite inhospitable environment. They were completely surveyed centuries ago. It would be illogical to explore them further, but children frequently use them for shelter during the _kahs-wan_. During my _kahs-wan_, I spent several hours in a lava tube, but I did not go more than a few meters inside."

"Didn't you go into a cave with your mom and the Cap'n?"

She nodded. "The Syrranites made extensive use of them. When we were in the Forge, we traveled through one, but we never left the main passage. This cave is quite different from anything there."

"Been in any other caves?"

"No, I have not." Her voice was calm, but Trip knew her well enough to hear a tinge of anxiety.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I've been in a few. I learned a lot from Travis and from our simulator training. With your small frame and your Vulcan strength, you're a natural caver."

"But I do not see well in the dark."

"Yeah, it's pretty dark down here. We'll have to be real careful with light if we don't want those goons to find us. Night vision is one of those few things humans are better at so I'll lead if we need to move."

"Agreed." She handed his jacket to him.

He shook his head. "You should wear it. It's chilly and damp in here."

"I appreciate your concern, but my uniform is well insulated. We prefer higher temperatures than humans, but because of our vast deserts, Vulcan is cold at night. Our physiology is adapted to that. As long as I stay dry, I should be fine."

Her brow wrinkled as she gazed at his legs. "What is that on your knees?"

"Duct tape. If we go deeper into the cave, we'll likely need to crawl. Without knee pads, our knees'll probably get scraped up. If we need to crawl through real tight spots, our elbows will have the same problem. The duct tape adds a little protection."

"My uniform is more resistant to abrasion than your flight suit, but some reinforcement would be prudent." He rummaged in one of his pockets to find the tape and handed it to her. She placed two strips over each of her knees and elbows.

As she worked, he listened intently. "With my human ears, it seems pretty quiet here. All I can hear is the wind and rain from outside, and that's muffled. If we have to go in further, it'll be completely silent. We don't know what their hearing is like; we should be as quiet as possible. Do you know any sign language?"

She nodded. "Some. Deafness is quite rare on Vulcan. We do not have any indigenous sign languages. When V'Shar agents first visited Earth, they were intrigued by the sign languages they encountered and saw them as a way for agents to communicate without being heard. I learned the rudiments of American Sign Language during my V'Shar training."

"Can you fingerspell?"

"Yes, but it will be too dark to see what we are spelling."

He smiled. "Not if we spell into each other's hands. My cousin Patty is Deaf. We used to do it all the time when we didn't want other folks to know what we were talking about. With a little practice and using abbreviations, it's almost as fast as talking."

"It has been years since I've used fingerspelling."

"Give me your hand." He spelled each letter and number a few times. Once she was comfortable with them, he began spelling sentences. At first, his abbreviations and omitted vowels puzzled her, but before long she understood.

"Let me try." When she started, making each statement as concise as possible and abbreviating everything was difficult, but soon she fell into the rhythm.

"You're doing great," he said. "We'll use fingerspelling whenever we can."

He gave T'Pol her scanner. "The scanners are in silent mode, but they're recording data. I've programmed them to give us a tactile alert to signs of problems like approaching hostiles or rising water."

"A logical precaution." She placed the strap over her shoulder.

They sat in silence. After several minutes, T'Pol jerked her head up and to the right. "Did you hear something?"

"No, but I felt my scanner buzz." He looked at it and saw eight humanoids in an adjoining passage about 50 meters away. His breathing rate soared as his mind raced in multiple directions. _Focus, Tucker! You have to get her to safety_.

He motioned toward a passage going in the other direction. They grabbed their gear and fled.

As they left the twilight area, Trip turned on his improvised headlamp. "As much as you can, keep a hand on my back. That will help when you can't see."

The warmth of her hand on the small of his back also reassured him. The passage was almost a meter wide, but the ceiling gradually became lower and lower. He stooped to avoid hitting his head. That made it even harder for him to see what lay ahead. When the passage began to turn, he paused. He turned and shuffled sideways with his head rotated so he could see where they were going. A few minutes later, he had to drop to hands and knees.

"When we have to crawl," he whispered, "try to keep a hand on my leg or my boot. If you need to tell me or ask me something, tug on it twice. If I need to communicate with you, I'll pick up my boot twice."

"Understood."

He tilted his cap, so it lit the way in front of him. Every few steps, he looked up, trying to memorize the details of the ceiling. Then he would look back to fix in his mind the images of each thing they passed; cavers exit by reversing the route they took in. Landmarks often appear very different when seen from the opposite direction. Without a map, being able to retrace their steps by sight could be crucial.

He ignored the cold, rough bedrock under his hands and knees. They crawled as fast as they could as the ceiling continued to descend, and the passage narrowed. As he looked back, T'Pol's body blocked his view. He considered asking her to memorize the landmarks behind them, but he doubted she could see enough in the dark.

Soon he had to drop to his belly. He rolled to his side and emptied his pockets. Then he took off his cap, turned it upside down, and used it to stow his gear. He placed it so the light faced forward and pushed it ahead of him as he crawled. Pulling forward with his hands, he used his feet and the sides of his knees to push. His hips banged against the walls as they moved from side to side. He lowered his head as the rough ceiling grazed his scalp.

When the passage became so narrow it touched both of his shoulders, Trip froze, trapped by the weight of hundreds of meters of stone pushing down on him. All he saw in front of him were narrowing walls of rock. He needed to crawl backward and flee from the cave, but T'Pol was behind him, blocking his escape. His heart pounded, and blood surged in his ears. Encased in that mountain of stone, he struggled to breathe. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but there was no one to help them.

Forcing himself to take a long, slow breath, he focused on T'Pol's hand on his calf. Even experienced cavers struggle with claustrophobia. Fear is the real danger. The way ahead was tight, but he could squeeze through everything as far as he could scan. He had to keep going to get T'Pol to safety. Imagining her sleeping in her quarters on Enterprise, he pushed his body forward.

After a few meters, the passage opened into a large room. He sighed with relief as he crawled out and offered T'Pol his hand. He spelled, "Hostiles?"

She checked her scanner. "No. We should rest."

He returned his gear to his pockets and put on his cap, then widened the beam of his light and looked around.

It was roughly seven meters wide and ten meters long. The ceiling varied in height, but all of it was high enough he could stand without stooping. The floor was littered with white marble boulders ranging from a half meter across to ones larger than his bunk on Enterprise. A few stalactites were growing from the ceiling. Most of the boulders were cemented by light brown flowstone. They had fallen hundreds, perhaps thousands of years earlier. He smiled. In a wet cave like this, rockfalls were always a hazard, but this area appeared stable.

There were two other possible exits from the room. The one on the left was narrow, barely more than a crevice. The one on the right was wider and almost tall enough for him to walk erect.

"Boulder City," he spelled.

"What?" He could feel the raised eyebrow in the motion of her hand.

"Cavers on Earth give colorful names to rooms and passages to help them remember their characteristics and location."

"Logical," she spelled. He thought he felt an unsaid "for humans" that gave him a silent chuckle.

"Wait here," he spelled. He checked the boulders until he found a corner where they blocked the view from the remainder of the room, then he led her to it and turned off his light. They sat with their backs propped against the wall. She took his hand and spelled, "You must sleep. I'll take first watch."

He scowled at her. "No, you're injured. I'll take watch."

"Trance worked. I'm fine. You need rest. Must I order you?"

He stared at the ground, reluctant to reply. "I'm afraid I'll have a nightmare and start yellin'. Don't wanna show 'em where we are."

"You're having nightmares again?"

"Not every night. A few times a week, mostly when I've had a tough day."

Since Elizabeth had died, he had been having the same nightmare he had in the Expanse but with an added twist. Lizzie was playing with baby Elizabeth while the Xindi weapon approached unseen. Paxton was standing near Trip. As Trip lunged toward Lizzie and the baby, Paxton laughed and clapped. When they died, he cheered. Trip tried to get his hands around the bastard's neck, but he could never reach him before he woke up, screaming and drenched in sweat.

T'Pol put her hand on his shoulder. "I'll be here. If I sense you're having a nightmare, I'll awaken you before you scream."

"I'm too keyed up to sleep."

"Turn so your back faces me. Slow your breathing."

It was too cold for him to disrobe for neuropressure, so she worked through his clothing.

_Don't think even neuropressure will help in this mess._ But as he felt her warm hands press gently on his back, a wave of drowsiness flowed over him; he closed his eyes. When he was on the edge of sleep, she eased him onto his side with his head and shoulders on her lap. Knowing she would be listening for any signs of trouble, he let himself drift away.

Author's Note - Patty is described as Deaf (with a capital D) to indicate she identifies with the Deaf community and Deaf culture. If you're curious about Deaf culture, the Wikipedia article, "Deaf Culture", is a good place to start.


	6. Chapter 6

One hour and 47 minutes later, Trip felt a buzz in his pocket and someone shaking his shoulder.

"Hostiles approaching," T'Pol whispered in his ear.

He blinked, trying to focus his eyes before he realized he was in total darkness. He adjusted his light to a tight beam and grabbed her hand. Moving toward the larger passage, he froze when he heard loud, rough voices.

"_Rha_? _Fvah-udt_?"

"_Hnaevl_! _Fvadt_!"

"_Dyypan_ _verrul_!"

The language was oddly familiar, but he couldn't identify it. Considering the sounds, they seemed to be cursing. He chuckled silently._ Sounds the same in any humanoid language._

He turned to the narrow passage. Their pursuers were probably having even more trouble with the squeeze than he had. That might give him and T'Pol the advantage they needed.

He took his scanner from his pocket and did a quick check. He could scan the first 15 meters of the passage. In that area, the tightest squeeze was 31 centimeters across. When they had done the cave training, Trip had gotten down to 30 centimeters in the squeezebox. That was under ideal conditions in a varnished plywood box. These conditions were far from ideal, but he was much more motivated. He started to crawl; she followed immediately behind him.

She was a meter and a half in when he heard weapons' fire followed by rocks crashing down. _They've given up on the stun setting._ He wasn't sure if the hostiles had meant to seal them in or if they had been firing wildly. One thing was certain. The two of them could not return to the surface by the way they'd come in.

He paused and picked up his boot twice. Reaching his hand back, he took T'Pol's hand as she reached forward. "You OK?"

"OK."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and began to move forward. Three meters ahead, the passage twisted to the right. He rolled onto his left side and felt her hand on his leg shift as she followed his lead. He wiggled his body through the turn. To his consternation, as soon as he cleared the turn, the passage turned to the left. He shifted to his right side. Trying to ignore all his scrapes and bruises, he pulled through the curve. Two meters further in, he saw the narrow spot the scanner had detected. He emptied his pockets and put their contents in his cap.

Signaling T'Pol with his boot, he reached for her hand. When she clasped it, he spelled, "Let me go first."

He stretched his right arm ahead of him and kept his left at his side as he crawled; he had traveled just over a meter before his shoulders were stuck. He backed up until he could get both arms in front. He couldn't use his arms to move forward, but that reduced his width enough he could use his legs to squeeze through.

Moments later, he felt her hand touch his leg. He continued to crawl forward, glancing back twice to check on her. With her smaller form, she negotiated the passage with relative ease.

When they exited the passage into a large room, he sighed and let his tight shoulders drop. _At least this isn't so narrow and twisty._ Widening the beam of his light, he gazed up. For a moment, he forgot he was deep underground on an alien planet, pursued by an unknown enemy.

The ceiling was a rough V twenty meters high. Golden brown flowstone draperies covered the walls. On the sides, there were stalactites and stalagmites of glittering white calcite. In many places, they had grown to form columns stretching from floor to ceiling. Helictites were growing among them, twisting and spiraling in apparent defiance of gravity.

"Holy Cross," he said in an awed whisper.

T'Pol gave him a quizzical look.

He gestured around the room. "A cathedral. The Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston was the first one I ever saw."

She nodded. "I see."

He was the first human to see this - probably the only human who would ever see it.

That thought brought him rudely back to reality. He made sure his scanner had recorded every detail it could about the room. They might be trapped here. If he had some equipment from Engineering, he could clear the obstruction behind them easily, but there was no way to do it with phase pistols. Without a map of the cave, it was impossible to know if there was another exit.

Jon would do everything he could to find them as soon as the storm broke, but the search and rescue could take days. That was assuming _Enterprise_ wasn't also under attack. They could hunker down, but their lack of supplies and the possibility of another encounter with the hostiles made that option unappealing.

He took her hand and switched off his light. "Can't go back that way. Need to find another exit," he spelled.

"Agreed. I'll program my scanner to create a map based on information we're finding."

He nodded. "Mapping this cave would take weeks, but we might find a way out."

The far end of the room narrowed into a passage with a subtle downward slope. He adjusted the penlight to its narrowest beam and led her to the opening.

She spent several minutes working with her scanner before she showed it to him. "This shows where we've come and all data we have on adjoining passages." She pressed a button. "This shows what it can detect ahead. It will update as data comes in. The model will run 60 to 90 seconds behind our scans."

He nodded. The passage was almost a meter tall, but it was narrow and had multiple twists and turns. He placed his scanner on the floor so he could keep it in front of him. Dropping to hands and knees, he began to crawl. He felt the warmth of her hand on his calf and heard the occasional soft scrape of boot on stone.

After a few meters, he had to roll onto his left side to negotiate a sharp turn. Once he got his torso around the first turn, he realized it was the beginning of a tight Z turn. He wouldn't be able to get his legs through before he headed into the second turn. He had no idea how to move forward, but T'Pol might be able to make it. Maybe he should send her on without him. Then he remembered a trick they'd mentioned in the cave training.

He picked up his boot twice to get her attention and then slowly started to crawl backward. Once his head cleared the turn, he found her hand. He spelled, "Z turn. Can't get legs through. Try crossed legs."

He crossed his legs Indian-style and crawled back into the turn. His knees scraped and bounced against both the floor and the ceiling of the passage, but he was able to pull himself through the Z.

She followed him a moment later. With her shorter legs, she made it look easy.

He checked the scanner. The passage continued to twist, but he didn't see any sharp turns. Twenty meters ahead, there was an opening on the right side that appeared to be a larger room.

They resumed crawling. When they reached the opening, he widened the beam of his light and looked into the room. It was only four meters across at its widest point, but it went fifteen meters before it tapered into another narrow passage; it was just tall enough for him to stand erect. Smiling, he stepped inside, stood tall and stretched his arms wide. He stifled a yawn.

T'Pol reached for his hand. "No sign of hostiles. We should rest."

He led her behind a boulder that blocked the view from both of the passages and sat down. He took a sip from his water bottle. "I'll take watch."

"No, your sleep was interrupted. You must rest."

He wanted to argue, but since they had stopped, he'd been struggling to keep his eyes open. "OK. Just an hour."

"Two hours. Then we'll move on."

_No point in arguing with a Vulcan, 'specially when she's right._ He rested his head back against the cave wall and let his eyes close.

_Lizzie sits at a table on the patio playing with baby Elizabeth. T'Pol is lying on the ground a few feet in front of her, unconscious and bleeding, but Lizzie doesn't see her. The sky behind them is on fire as the Xindi weapon approaches. Paxton and a group of hostiles are standing off to the side, laughing and pointing._

Someone was shaking his shoulder. "Trip, wake up. It's OK." He gasped for breath. Everything was black. Was she still there?

He reached for her. "T'Pol! You're alive. I thought…"

She stroked his hand. "I'm fine, _t'hy'la._ It was just a nightmare." Her fingerspelling was as soft as a caress.

The hammering in his chest began to ease. "Sure seemed real. Did I scream?"

"You moaned softly. I awakened you before you got any louder."

"Thanks, darlin'. You should get some sleep."

She shook her head. "You had very little rest. You need to go back to sleep."

"Don't think I can."

"Lie on your side with your head and shoulders on my lap."

He tried to object, but he was too tired to think of a coherent reason, so he did as she asked. He felt a warm, gentle hand on his forehead and another on his shoulder. In a few moments, he was asleep.

Forty-seven minutes later, he once again felt a buzzing in his pocket and T'Pol shaking his shoulder. "Hostiles."

* * *

**Author's Note**

_Rha_? _Fvah-udt_? - Is that so? Who are you to be ordering me around?

_Hnaevl_! _Fvadt_! - Crap! Damn!

_Dyypan_ _verrul_! - Incompetent fool!


	7. Chapter 7

The downward slope of the passage was increasing. After a few minutes, the descent was so steep Trip worried the floor would drop off abruptly, and there would be no way to stop his fall. He paused and tried to recall his training. In this situation, it was better to go down feet first. He needed a place wide enough to turn around. Two meters further down, he found one.

He picked up his boot twice to signal T'Pol. "Watch what I do and follow me."

He crawled in a tight circle and then began to descend feet first. The silence was broken with increasing frequency by dripping and trickling water. The floor was smooth, perhaps from the flow of water over many years.

They crept along until the passage opened out into an area that was much less steep and almost allowed him to walk erect. He soon regretted that advantage. A thin layer of slippery gray mud and small pebbles covered the floor. As they walked, the ceiling became lower and lower; he leaned forward to compensate. Suddenly, his feet were sliding backward. His arms shot out to break his fall, but not fast enough to keep him from falling on his face.

Where had his light gone? Looking down the passage, he spotted it, still taped to his cap, half a meter away.

T'Pol gave him a hand as he slowly made his way back to his feet. "You're injured." Blood was running down his cheek from a cut on his forehead.  
"Not seriously, but cuts like this bleed like stink." As a kid, he'd heard lots of stories about how blood attracted sharks. He hoped his pursuers didn't have that propensity. He fumbled with his pockets until he found a relatively clean cloth.

"Give that to me." She opened her water bottle and dampened the cloth. She gently cleaned the wound and then applied pressure until the bleeding stopped.

The mud grew thicker as they went. After a seemingly endless amount of slogging through it, one of his boots became stuck. He tried moving his foot back and forth with no improvement. Finally, he yanked it out, but the force of his movement sent him skidding once again through the muck. He came to rest on his back three meters down the passage. He was still trying to catch his breath when T'Pol offered him her hand to help him rise.

"Are you OK?"

Feeling the concern in her touch, he nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, 'cept for my dignity."

They continued on in silence. After a few minutes, Trip heard the splashing of falling water to his right; he turned and looked up. A waterfall two meters wide and ten meters tall poured down from a higher level. He considered climbing up, but it was too steep to attempt without specialized gear. He added "Falling Waters" to his mental list of landmarks. Ignoring the beauty of the clear, glistening water flowing over the ebony swirled marble, he kept slogging forward.

The mud gave way to a shallow creek. In the creek bed, the mud had been washed away. Rocks shifted under his feet. He reached back for T'Pol's hand. "Go slow. Could be potholes or snags. One could break your leg or get you stuck."

"Understood."

A few steps later, Trip felt a sharp tug on his sleeve. He turned to face T'Pol and lifted her hand.

"My boot is stuck."

"Hold on to the top of your boot and pull it out slowly."

She pulled, but there was no change. Examining the place where her foot was trapped, he saw the problem. Her boot was wedged tightly between two large rocks. If he tried to move either of them, others were likely to fall and injure her leg.

"Move your foot back and forth."

She tried over and over again. Although he was blocking the bond, he could feel an edge of panic in her touch. If her boot remained caught there, they might still be able to free her foot, but without her boot, her chances for escape were much lower.

When he was almost ready to say it was hopeless, the boot came loose, and her foot shot out of the water. He caught her as she toppled to the other side.  
He gave a sigh of relief. "OK, that's good. Let's get going."

As they proceeded cautiously through the stream, the water deepened and became murky. When it rose to his mid-chest, he realized soon they might have to swim. He was a strong swimmer, but what about T'Pol? She was from a desert world. Could she navigate this, even with his help?

"Can you swim?"

"My swimming skills are basic, but I think I can handle this."

"We can walk for a while, but we may need to swim. Stay close to me."

"Of course."

Was the ceiling getting lower or was the water rising? Either way, the air space was shrinking. He paused and took her hand.

"Turn on the light on your scanner. You'll need to see what I do."

He saw the light shining from behind him and continued forward. As the air space narrowed, he tilted his head, so one ear was in the water. The cold water made him dizzy for a few seconds. His new head position gave him enough clearance for two more meters, but soon the water was sloshing up his nose, making it hard for him to breathe. He paused and removed his cap. Then he turned around, laid his head back, so his face was toward the ceiling, and closed his eyes. He stretched his arms behind his head so he could feel along as he walked. His nose grazed the rough stone as water sloshed over his eyes.

A few meters further, the ceiling began to rise, and he could lift his head. Unfortunately, the passage's floor was sloping down. Soon, the water would be over T'Pol's head.

He stopped and took her hand. "We need to keep moving. The water's rising, plus it's cold enough we'll get hypothermia before long. We can swim, or we can go back up the passage and make a stand there. What do you think we should do?"

"We're outnumbered. We should avoid making a stand if we can, but I don't know if I can swim this."

"Don't worry. I'll help you. Just watch what I do." He placed his equipment in his pockets and put his cap back on before easing himself further into the water. He trod water while he opened his arms toward his _t'hy_'la and gave her an encouraging smile. When she reached him, he did a gentle sidestroke, his face partially submerged. He watched anxiously as she began to follow.

Once she had taken a few strokes, he began to feel more hopeful. Then he saw that three meters ahead, water filled the passage. He checked to see if he could stand. When his feet hit bottom, he stood up and reached out to her.

Using his scanner, he determined the obstruction was a duck under just over a meter long and wide enough to swim through. The water was 1.6 meters deep. On the other side, there was sufficient clearance for them to stand, and the air was breathable. Still, he wanted to try it before guiding T'Pol through.

He reached for her hand. "Let me check. I'll be right back."

She nodded. He took three deep breaths and then dove into the murky water. Thirty-seconds later, he reappeared.

Looking into her eyes, he could see the fear she was struggling to hide. He smiled to reassure her. "It's OK. Hold on to my waistband, and I'll guide you through."

They emerged in a passage where they could stand. The water came up to Trip's chest. He was relieved until he saw the water lapping her chin. "Let's keep going."

As they moved forward, the ceiling rose but so did the water. They were much too far into the cave to know what was happening above ground, but he was sure the storm was causing flooding in this lower level. The water would continue to rise until breathing was impossible. He had to find a way to get T'Pol to safety.

They hadn't seen any sign of their pursuers since they had ventured into the water, but he doubted they were gone. Soon they came to another place that was totally sumped. Hoping it was like that first duck under, he scanned the passage. It was filled with water for at least the next five meters. He might make it through, but it was much too risky for T'Pol. He considered retracing their steps but decided that wasn't an option.

Broadening the beam of his light, he examined the area in front of them. There was a dam of rocks and sand holding back the water. If they made a trench in that, they'd sump the passage behind them. Normally, that would be something to avoid, but here it would be likely to cause more problems for their pursuers than it would for them.

He reached back for her hand. "We need to make a trench in those rocks and sand so the water can drain and we can get through." He began picking up rocks from the center of the passage and placing them on the side. She took the right side while he took the left.

Soon the water had fallen to the level of his waist. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before moving forward. After a few meters, he saw a muddy bank. It was slippery, but it held his weight.

Reaching back to help T'Pol, he noticed she was shivering. He removed his jacket and handed it to her. "You need this more than I do. It's wet, but it's designed to keep you warm, anyway."

She tried to protest, but she had difficulty with her chattering teeth. He gave her a stern look until she put it on and zipped it up. As they walked, only the sound of flowing water broke the silence.

The passage broadened into a narrow room; the ceiling was high, just short of three meters. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. His legs felt like they were made of lead. She would never complain of fatigue, but her shoulders sagged. Perhaps they could stop here for some much needed rest.  
Looking at the walls, he saw a grayish-brown coating obscured the marble almost all the way to the top. He touched T'Pol's shoulder to get her attention and then pointed up the wall. "The high water mark from a previous flood. We can't stay here." 

* * *

Author's Note - Falling Waters State Park in the Florida Panhandle (45 miles from Panama City, where Trip grew up) has a 70-foot waterfall, the largest in Florida. It flows from level ground into a sinkhole. No one knows where the water goes from there.


	8. Chapter 8

The passage narrowed again, but its rough floor had a slight upward slope. A trickle of cold water flowed down the middle, growing wider as they continued. Over the next 200 meters, they went from walking upright to stooping and then crawling.

Trip was creeping on his belly, trying to keep his face out of the water without banging his head when his right leg refused to go forward. He paused and attempted to move it again with no success. Looking back, he couldn't see the cause of the problem. He lifted his foot a couple of centimeters before hitting its limit. His pants leg must be caught on something, maybe a nubbin of rock protruding from the wall.

His gut clenched. He'd heard stories about cavers who became stuck because of a seemingly minor snag and then died trapped in the cave. And T'Pol would be trapped behind him, his body cutting off her only escape.

_You've come this far, Tucker — don't stop now. Take a deep breath and focus on moving your foot. _Wiggling it from side to side and up and down didn't unsnag it.

He reached his hand toward his _t'hy'la_ but couldn't reach her. He whispered, "I'm stuck. My right pants leg's snagged on something."

Feeling her hand on his calf, the tightness in his gut began to ease. He took off his cap and tried to shine the light back so she could see, but his body blocked the beam. He heard the fabric rip as she pulled it away from the rock.

"Thanks, darlin'. Don't know what I'd do without you." He inched his leg forward and started to crawl again.

Eventually, the passage began to widen, and the ceiling rose. Trip stretched his arms wide. It was a relief to walk erect after all that crouching and creeping, but he worried that the trickle of water was deepening into a stream.

He took her hand and spelled, "I'd like to get further from that rising water."

"Agreed."

He looked up every few steps, examining the ceiling. Then he saw it — a narrow vertical passage that appeared to connect to a higher level. Under the opening, there was a massive boulder. He walked to its base and shone his light up. "If we climb up onto this, we should be able to chimney up that hole."

T'Pol nodded and turned on her scanner's backlighting. He placed his foot on the boulder and began to climb. When he was about a meter up, he paused and shone the light down toward her.

"Can you see well enough to climb?"

"The light from the scanner helps, but it would be useful if you would turn your light toward me periodically."

He nodded. "I'll make a couple of moves and then turn my light toward you until you do the same."

"Agreed."

Shining his light higher, he spotted a new handhold. He reached up and then searched for a foothold. Once he had it, he pushed his body upward and found a place for his other foot. He repeated the procedure before pointing the light toward her. Soon he stood on top of the boulder with her head a short distance below.

"I'm going to start to chimney. Once I'm about a meter and a half up, I'll shine the light down."

Here, his height was an advantage. He turned so he could put his butt against the passage wall and still be able to see T'Pol. Wedging himself into the opening, he pressed both his feet against the opposite side. He braced his right arm on the rock face before cautiously moving his left foot upward. With his back to the wall and keeping at least three points of contact as he moved, he climbed a quarter of the distance before turning his light toward her.

"I think your legs are long enough for this, but if they're not, we'll find another way."

She looked up, studying his position. "I should be able to do this."

"You'll be fine. Just take your time."

She began her ascent, wedging herself in the passage. He watched her climb. _Don't think she's ever done this before. How can she be so graceful?_

Once she reached him, he started climbing again. They continued this slow dance until Trip pulled himself out of the hole and stepped back from the edge. He turned and offered her his hand as she climbed out.

They sat with their backs against the cave wall and checked his scanner. He spelled, "I think this cave has at least three levels. We entered on the middle level, and we just left the lower one. We haven't seen a higher level, but the scanner has been detecting something through the rock. There's bound to be some connection." He gestured toward the gap they had just emerged from. "The water down there is rising fast. It's fairly dry up here so far, but no guarantee it will stay that way."

She nodded. "If we can reach the upper level, it may be safer."

"Yeah. I have a hunch there might be an exit there. If we could find that, it'd make getting back to _Enterprise_ a lot easier."

"Then, we need to continue exploring the cave."

He smiled. "Good thing we're explorers."

* * *

_Damn, seems like we've been crawlin' through here for days. I'm never gonna complain about working in a Jeffries tube or under a console again._

Trip stifled a yawn. _At least we haven't seen those goons for a while. Don't 'spose they could have gotten bored and gone home…_

The passage they were in was a little wider than it was tall with a ceiling just high enough for him to be able to crawl on hands and knees. There was a branch off to the left, but there was no way to know the best route to take. He decided to keep going down the one they were on.

Five meters later it made a tight S turn before opening into a larger space. He had almost gotten to the opening when T'Pol tugged on his leg. As he reached for her hand, he heard a boot scraping on stone in the room ahead. Dismayed, he spelled "BACK," but there was nowhere for them to turn around.

She began crawling backward as fast as she could. Following her, Trip heard the whine of an energy weapon firing. The shot hit the floor less than half a meter in front of his hand. As he backed through the S, he wondered if their enemies would follow. Maybe it was too narrow for them to get through. Would they take off their gear to pursue?

When she reached the branch point, he whispered, "You first."

She shook her head. "Can't see in dark."

He handed her his hat; she put it on and headed into the passage. He paused with his phase pistol out, listening for their pursuers, and then followed her.

When he'd gone about a meter, something clanked against the rock behind him. He aimed at the source of the sound and fired. In the brief instant of light from the shot, he saw a large, dark form raising a weapon toward him. Trip fired again, hitting his target with no apparent effect. _Stun doesn't do anything to these bastards._ The hostile fired, pelting Trip with rock fragments from a spot right above his shoulder.

He continued backing into the branching passage until only his head and right shoulder were exposed. He changed the setting on his weapon to kill and shot twice. His pursuer went down.

Feeling his way in the darkness, he kept crawling until the passage opened into a spacious room. As he entered it, there was a muffled boom and the sound of falling rock from the area he had just left.

He took cover behind the first boulder he encountered and looked for T'Pol. She had switched off her improvised headlamp, but when she fired her phase pistol, he saw her half-hidden by a pile of rocks three meters away. She was exchanging fire with two hostiles near another opening into the room. In a burst of light, he spotted a hostile coming up behind her.

"T'Pol," he screamed. "Behind you."

She hit the ground, rolled to get out of the line of fire and began firing again. Trip's first shot missed, but his second connected. The hostile collapsed onto the ground, but a moment later, Trip heard a scraping sound. He fired in that direction, but all he could see in the flash of light was the wall of the cave. The clatter of running feet told him the hostiles were retreating up the passage.

He switched on his scanner's backlight and saw T'Pol on all fours, peering down into the darkness in front of her hands.

He rose and walked to her. Crouching down beside her, he took her hand. "You won't see much like that," he spelled.

"I lost my scanner." She turned on the penlight taped to his cap and handed it to him. He looked down and found what appeared to be a bottomless hole.

Its floor was beyond where his penlight could reach, but he could see the walls several meters down. He moved his head slowly, so he could systematically search for her missing device. Just when he was about to say it was gone, he saw a bit of light reflect off its screen.

Pointing to the spot, he said, "The shoulder strap on your scanner caught on a rough place on the rock that stopped its fall."

"I'm going to get it." She jerked her hand away and started to rise.

He grabbed her wrist. "Too risky."

"It has survey data on it that's vital to Starfleet."

"Not worth risking your life for it."

"It also has the maps of the cave we've created. They may be our only hope of finding our way out."

He sighed. "OK. We don't have climbing gear. I need you to hold my ankles while I go down to get it."

"I should be the one to go."

He shook his head. "My reach is longer. Plus I'll need that Vulcan strength of yours to keep me from fallin' and to pull me back up."

She stared down into the chasm before meeting his gaze. "Very well."

He examined the area where they would kneel and brushed away the loose pebbles so she'd have good footing. Kneeling near the edge of the chasm, she gripped his ankles so tightly he prayed she wouldn't break them.

"Ready?" he whispered.

"Ready."

He braced his hands on the side of the hole and began to crawl forward and down. His chest, belly, and thighs scraped on the rocky edge as he descended. Soon, he was hanging vertically, trusting T'Pol to be his only support. He reached into the darkness until he found the strap. Tugging on it cautiously, he freed it from the rock and pulled the scanner in. He kept one arm free to guide himself up the rock face as she brought him up.

"Got it. Bring me up," he said, keeping his voice soft to minimize any possible echoes.

She rose to her feet as she lifted him and then gently set him down a half meter from the edge. He laid there for a moment catching his breath.

Checking the device, he saw the power cell was missing, so he replaced it with the spare from his toolkit. The backlight came on, but the screen was blank.

"It's damaged. Maybe we can fix it, but we should try to put some distance between us and them before we do that. Till then, just use it as a light."

He gazed around the room. _Guess we could call this one the OK Corral, but whoever heard of a corral with a bottomless pit?_

The room had three exits. Going back the way they'd come — if that was even still possible after the explosion he'd heard — or taking the one the hostiles had retreated down would make things even worse. The third option was more like a crack - narrow, twisty, and rough.

_I'm gonna hate this, but those goons would hate it a lot more._

He motioned to her and then turned sideways to squeeze himself into the crevice. The walls scraped his chest and back as he sidestepped through the passage.

When it broadened, he led her to a spot where they could hide behind a boulder and began to examine her scanner more closely.

He scowled. "Do you know how to fix this thing?"

"No. Most Vulcan equipment is designed to be repaired by trained technicians, not by the user."

If it had been a Starfleet device, he would have known it down to the last detail, but the Vulcans still were reluctant to share most of their technology. She had always told him that the technology was classified and had never let him explore it.

He used his scanner to run a diagnostic on her device. He was relieved to see the data storage was intact, but the IO matrix integrator was damaged. The IO matrix compiler in his scanner wouldn't be compatible, but he might be able to jury-rig something to access the cave maps she'd made by using the output matrix integrator from his communicator.

It would be a quick, simple repair in a proper work environment with the right tools. In this dark, wet place working just with what he had, it would take more time. The bruised and bloody state of his hands would slow him down even more. Plus he'd have to breach the watertight integrity of the unit, and he didn't have the supplies he would need to re-establish it. If the scanner got wet, the data might be lost.

He took T'Pol's hand. "The data is OK, but the scanner isn't functional. The repair will have to wait." He handed her his scanner. "Not as good as yours, but maybe you can do some mapping on it."

She spent several minutes programming the device before handing it to him. "The maps will not be as detailed, but they should suffice."


	9. Chapter 9

The sound of crashing rock fractured the silence. "Hostiles?" T'Pol asked.

"You hear them?"

She shook her head. "No."

Trip worked with his scanner. "Don't think they caused that noise. Can't pinpoint it, but I think it was from a rock fall in a connecting passage. In caves like this, that's not rare. Scanner doesn't show any bio signs 'cept us."

They continued on for another hour with no sign of the hostiles, walking when they could and crawling when the ceiling dipped. The cobble that formed the passage floor was hard on his hands and knees when they had to crawl, but he preferred that to a floor washed smooth by past flooding.

He led her to a nook behind a boulder where they would be unseen by anyone coming from the larger passage. He motioned for her to sit and then seated himself with his back supported by the cave wall.

When she was seated, he took her hand. "Your turn to rest."

She nodded. "Meditation would help more than sleep, but I'm too tired to meditate without a candle."

"Maybe I can help." He adjusted the controls on his scanner and handed it to her. "I was gonna give you this on your birthday but makes more sense to do it now."

On the screen, there was an image of one of her candles burning. "It's quite realistic," she spelled.

He smiled. "I recorded one of your candles burning for 3 hours. There were lots of tiny variations in the flame, so I wrote a program to simulate those and the burning of the wax. I'm still working on a way to add the scent. I thought we could put this on your scanner and on a PADD so you'd have somethin' to use when a candle wasn't available or safe to use."

"Very thoughtful. It will be a great help here." He felt a smile in the touch of her hand.

"It's cold in here. You should sit on my lap."

"I'll meditate for two hours if we're not disturbed. That's too long for me to put pressure on your legs."

"How 'bout this? You can sit between my legs and lean back against me."

She raised an eyebrow. "It's logical to share warmth, but I don't know how it will affect my meditation."

"Let's try it. If it doesn't work, you can move."

She took off the jacket she was wearing and spread it on the floor for him to sit on. Surprised how warm and dry the jacket lining was, he scooted over to sit on it and opened his legs wide. She sat between them, as close to a lotus pose as her boots would allow, and pulled the jacket sleeves over their legs. She used a small rock to prop up his scanner where her candle would normally be and then leaned back against him.

He shut off his penlight and wrapped his arms around her. Soon her breathing slowed and her muscles relaxed against him. For the next two hours, he sat cherishing the feel of her body on his and listening to the stillness.

When she stirred, he asked, "Feeling better?"

"Yes, the meditation was refreshing. If you'd like, I'll teach you when we return to the ship."

"I'd like that, but we should get going now."

They rose, picked up their things, and stepped back into the middle of the room. She put on his jacket, and they started down a narrow, winding passage with a high ceiling.

He looked up every few steps, searching for a connection to the upper level. As they continued, the passage gradually widened. He spotted a hole three meters above his head. It was near the wall and almost two meters across.

It wouldn't be possible to chimney up to reach it, but the wall was rough enough to offer many potential handholds and footholds.

He pointed his light up to show T'Pol the opening. "Normally, I wouldn't recommend tackling something like that without climbing gear, but we don't have a lot of options. What do you think?"

She nodded. "We need to get to a higher level, and we may not have another opportunity."

"OK, let me go first. When I'm halfway up, I'll shine my light down for you."

He felt for a handhold he couldn't see. His searching fingers found one almost half a meter over his head. He put his left hand there as he felt for a toehold with his right foot. He carefully placed his foot in the spot he'd found and pushed his weight upward.

When he was halfway up, he paused and turned his light toward her. She had climbed about a meter when he heard rocks falling from above. He screamed, "Rock!" and flattened himself against the rock face.

As soon as the sounds of crashing rocks ceased, he looked down toward T'Pol. In the light from his improvised headlamp, she appeared pale and shaken, but she didn't seem to be injured. He whispered, "You OK?"

She nodded. "I'm uninjured."

"It's not stable here. Climb back down."

When she reached the ground, she stepped away from the wall. He took a deep breath and descended cautiously. "That was too close. We'll have to find another way."

They continued up the passage they had been following. Half an hour later, he saw another gap in the ceiling close to the wall. It was a jagged crack just big enough for him to fit through. The opening was less than three meters up so it would be a short climb.

He examined the area carefully. "I think the rock face is stable enough. I'll go first. Stand back in case something comes loose."

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but after a moment she nodded and stepped back.

The climb was easy but squeezing himself through the hole required more wiggling than he'd expected. To his great relief, that didn't dislodge any rock.

_Crazy Crack would be a good name for this one. _

Once he was through, he shone his light down to T'Pol. "Come on up."

A moment later, she was grasping his hand as she slipped gracefully through the opening.

Looking around the room, he noted several things that bothered him. There were as many boulders littering the floor as there had been in Boulder City, but there wasn't any flowstone cementing them. Probably they'd fallen more recently, but that still could have been years ago. Or was a falling boulder here the cause of that crashing sound they had heard a few hours ago?

He turned his light toward the ceiling and saw bright white marble in several areas - a sign that rocks had fallen recently. Then he noticed the gunpowder scent of freshly broken marble in the air. They'd fallen very recently.

He took T'Pol's hand. "This place isn't stable. Let's get out of here."

As they were threading their way between the boulders, he heard an ominous crack. He pushed T'Pol to the ground and covered her body with his. The sound of stone crashing down filled the air as rock fragments pelted his back. When it stopped, he rolled off her. He spelled, "You OK?"

"I'm fine. And you?"

"I'm OK." He looked around the room and chose a path out. "This one oughta be named Dodge City."

The ceiling was high enough for him to walk erect, but it was slow going as they picked their way through the loose rock that littered the floor, trying to avoid making any noise. In a few places it was so narrow they had to sidestep for several meters to scrape through. Trip was relieved when it opened into a large room.

As he entered, his scanner buzzed, and T'Pol grabbed his hand. "Hostiles."

He pulled her behind a boulder and turned off his headlamp. A shot five centimeters to the left of his head told him hiding wasn't an option. A scramble back to the passage they had come from seemed like a possibility until a shot from that direction hit the wall behind him. He winced when a small, sharp rock struck his calf.

He said, "Both passages. You take right. I'll take left."

Peeking around the boulder, he saw only blackness. _Wish I could hear like T'Pol._ Her phase pistol beam struck one of the hostiles, who immediately returned fire.

She fired again, and he heard a body fall.

He listened for a long moment. When he heard the soft scrape of a boot on stone to his left, he reached around the boulder and fired four shots before he saw a body pitch forward. He heard footsteps retreating and fired twice more before he turned toward T'Pol.

She was continuing to fire. The light from her phase pistol showed the hostiles for an instant with each shot. One was down and partially blocking the passage.

_The "kill setting" must be depleting the power cells like crazy. Likely we only have a few more shots._ He aimed for the ceiling and brought down a shower of rocks onto their pursuers. Before he could fire again, he heard shouting as the hostiles fled down the passage and around a curve. When silence returned, he took out his scanner. It didn't show any sign of them as far down either passage as he could scan.

He turned on his light at the dimmest setting and reached for T'Pol's hand. He spelled "Stay here" and then crawled toward the closer of the two bodies.

When he was about a meter away, he was thrown back by an explosion. He was dazed for a few seconds; he shook his head to clear it and brushed off some of the debris he'd been showered with.

_What's with these guys blowin' everything up? _Pointing his light where the body had been, all he saw was some gray smoke and a dark brown residue on the cave floor. The smoke had a sharp, pungent odor like bleach mixed with scorched plastic and a hint of copper. He tried to analyze it with his scanner, but it only showed some organic compounds that could have come from anything and some vaporized metals. Before he could crawl to the other body, he heard another explosion.

He crawled back to T'Pol. She reached for his hand. "Are you injured?"

"I'm OK. How 'bout you?"

"Fine, but my phase pistol is out of power."

He removed the power cell from his communicator and gave it to her. "We're out of spares, but we should be OK with one communicator."

He was quiet as he tried to piece together what had just happened. "They must have broken into two groups."

She spelled, "We don't know how many there are. We haven't observed more than eight at any one time, but there could be multiple groups."

"Yeah. Not sure where to go next."

"Let me see how far ahead I can map the passages." He handed her his scanner; she crawled ten meters into the passage on the left and began to scan.

Five minutes later, she returned to his side and showed him what she had found. "The left-hand passage slopes slightly upward and is passable for at least the first 60 meters, but we'll need to crawl. I didn't detect any sign of hostiles. They retreated via the right-hand passage, but this cave is maze-like. The passages have many branches and interconnections. I don't know if their route would connect with ours or if there is another group farther ahead than I could scan."

"Yeah, but going to the left is still our best option. Let's go."

After going another 200 meters and negotiating a couple of tight squeezes, they emerged from the crawlway into a high-ceilinged room. Trip looked at his scanner — no sign of their pursuers. "Hear anything?"

"No. Perhaps the passage they chose doesn't connect with this one."

He turned on his headlamp with a wide beam and looked around. On the left side, the floor was littered with boulders and smaller rocks that had fallen from the ceiling.

There was no flowstone cementing them; this breakdown was newer than in Boulder City. Would this be a repeat of Dodge City? When he checked the ceiling, nothing seemed to be about to fall, but he couldn't be certain. He took a deep breath, checking for the gunpowder smell. At least that was absent.

He led her to a nook ten meters ahead on the right side of the room and turned off his light. He tried to sit down cautiously to protect his weary body, but he was so stiff his descent was more like a fall.

"How long have we been in here?"

"49 hours and 17 minutes. If our projections were correct, the storm should be dissipating." She opened her communicator. "T'Pol to Enterprise." They heard nothing but static.

"We're probably still too deep to establish communications," she said. "We should try to get closer to the surface and contact the ship."

"Good idea, but I think we're on the highest level. Considering the amount of breakdown we've been seeing, there may be a sinkhole somewhere around here. Let's see if we can find one."

"A sinkhole?"

"Yeah, there are lots of them in Florida where I grew up. Sometimes everything between a cave and the surface collapses. That makes a sinkhole. It'd be the devil to climb out of, but we should be able to get a signal back to _Enterprise_ once the storm breaks."

"How would we find it?"

He looked at his scanner and shook his head. "Dunno. You might be able to smell something from the surface, but it'll probably have to be trial and error." He pointed straight ahead. "Let's take a look at that passage."

The passage was tall enough for him to stand as long as he maintained a moderate slouch, but loose, jagged rock littered the floor. They'd gone about 30 meters when she said, "I hear them."

He checked his scanner and pointed to the right. "Over there. The passage branches 10 meters ahead. It has a low ceiling and looks tight enough to slow them down."

They clambered to the side passage as quickly as they could. He fell on his belly and began to crawl. She followed right behind him.

He heard the discharge of an energy weapon. He looked back and saw melted rock a few centimeters behind T'Pol's foot.

"Trip, you need to go faster."

Fighting an urge to scream, he muttered, "I'll see what I can do." Unfortunately, he was at the beginning of a tight S turn that made his progress even slower. He wished he'd made her go first. Then at least she would have had a chance to escape.

Suddenly, he saw a light that wasn't from his headlamp. He crawled faster as the passage opened out into the sinkhole they were seeking.

As he emerged, the sunlight that filtered down through the vegetation almost blinded him. The sinkhole was 20 meters across and filled with purple leaved trees and bushes growing toward the sun and with debris that had been washed into the hole. Its muddy floor was covered by standing water half a meter deep. The walls were much too sheer for them to climb, but he was thrilled by the light.

He pulled out his communicator before he remembered he'd removed the power cell to use in her phase pistol. As she exited the passage, he aimed his pistol at the opening.

She had her communicator out. "T'Pol to _Enterprise_."

Hoshi Sato's voice immediately replied, "_Enterprise_ here. Are you OK?"

They could hear the hostiles coming around that last bend. "Two for emergency beam out."

Trip had never been so happy to feel his body dissolve into energy.

Author's note - Obviously, you shouldn't try this at home unless it's the only way you can escape a group of homicidal aliens. If you'd like to learn more about caves and how to explore them, the National Speleological Society (www dot caves dot org) is a great place to start.


	10. Chapter 10

On a normal day, T'Pol would have blocked the chittering of Phlox's menagerie and the assortment of odors they gave off from her awareness as soon as she entered Sickbay. Today, she found the familiar sensations quite agreeable.

She gazed at her t'hy'la sitting on the next biobed. She had known since she'd joined the Enterprise crew how resourceful and determined he was, but trapped in that strange and unforgiving environment, she had feared she would lose him. He was pale and exhausted, but the doctor had not detected any serious injuries. They had survived and made it home.

She was beginning to be able to perceive his feelings as they leaked through the bond. He was struggling to block the discomfort from a myriad of minor injuries. She needed to make sure each was properly attended to.

Archer's voice drew her attention. "You two have had a rough couple of days. Rest up and do what Phlox tells you. Don't worry about a formal report. We'll take those scanners and have Lieutenant Rice download the data. She should have a preliminary analysis ready by the time you return to duty, T'Pol."

"Thank you, Captain. That would be most agreeable."

"Malcolm, we should get back to the bridge. We need to figure out what's happening down there. I don't think there are any crash survivors who need our help, but I'm still not sure. I've got to let Admiral Gardner know what we've found so they can decide about a colony." The captain rose and walked out.

Malcolm hesitated. "Trip, T'Pol, leaving you on that planet was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I was afraid we'd never see either of you again. I'm glad you're both okay."

Trip gave him a tired smile. "You were in a tough spot. I really appreciated you getting the rest of the team back to the ship. Now you better go up to the bridge."

He nodded. "Get a good night's sleep. I'll check with you after breakfast."

As Malcolm left, Phlox returned with a tray of equipment. It took only a few minutes for him to clean and close the laceration on T'Pol's scalp.

He picked up a hypospray and turned to Trip. "This should help with your headache," the doctor said as he injected his patient. He handed him another hypospray and three packets of Dermaline gel. "Apply the gel to your abrasions after you shower. You can use the hypospray if the headache recurs before I see you in the morning."

Trip smiled. "Thanks, Doc. I'll come by after breakfast."

His gait was slow and slightly unsteady as T'Pol walked with him to his quarters. She kept a hand on his upper arm to support him. He didn't make his typical protest, saying he was fine and didn't need help — she would need to watch him closely.

"We should stop at the Mess Hall. You have not eaten in over two days," she said.

"You haven't eaten, either."

"Vulcans can go several days without food."

"That doesn't mean it's a good idea. I'm too tired to eat, but we should get something for you."

"We'll pick up some juice to take with us to your quarters." As they entered the Mess Hall, she said, "Sit down while I prepare it."

"I don't think I'll be able to get back up if I sit down."

"Do not worry. I will carry you if needed."

He groaned and sat down. "That's all I need, to be carried through the ship by a woman."

For a long moment, he stared down at the floor; then he raised his head and sighed. "Sorry, T'Pol, just my pig-headed human male stubbornness talking. I don't want to be carried through the ship by anybody." He smiled at her. "But if I needed someone to carry me, I couldn't choose anyone better than you." He gave her an appraising look. "That is, if you're okay. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I also need rest, but assisting you will not overtax me."

She stepped over to the drink dispenser and chose a couple of the extra-large cups. To each cup, she added two shots of the protein and vitamin supplement. She filled one with _kaasa _juice for her and the other with orange and tart cherry juices, plus a shot of honey and cinnamon for him, and put them in a to-go box.

When she turned to Trip, he used his hands on the table to push himself upright and paused for a moment before taking his first step. They walked slowly to his quarters. As he opened the door, he said, "Thanks for coming with me, but I'm okay. You don't have to stay."

During most of their time on the planet, he had been blocking the bond. She had assumed that he did not want to distract her while they were being pursued. Now that they were back safely on _Enterprise,_ his feelings were slipping through. She was puzzled by the deep sadness and guilt she felt from him. Perhaps it was simply his exhaustion.

"I believe I should come in. You are exhausted. You need a shower and clean clothes before you retire for the night. I can assist with that."

Trip seemed reluctant, but he nodded. "Okay. Come on in."

She wondered if Phlox should have kept him in Sickbay for the night — he did not seem to be thinking clearly. Could there have been some injury the doctor had missed? Perhaps she should return to Sickbay with him. But he would rest much better in his quarters. Phlox's menagerie made it difficult for many of his patients to sleep, but for Trip, it was more than that. Being surrounded by his own things helped him to relax.

The first time she'd entered the chief engineer's quarters, she'd found them to be cluttered. A Vulcan would not have surrounded himself with all of those illogical objects.

Soon she'd realized that each thing had its place. Trip had grown up playing and working on boats. He'd learned at an early age what happened to unsecured objects when a boat rolled. His Starfleet training had firmly reinforced the prohibition against 'gear adrift.' That training had served him well. _Enterprise_ was frequently shaken by outside forces. Things that weren't properly secured quickly became missiles.

He had a variety of pictures, books, and other items in his quarters. When he'd come aboard, he'd used his engineering expertise to ensure that all of his belongings were secured. One had to look closely — the fastenings were invisible to a casual glance.

Once she knew him better, she realized each object had special significance to him. Many were from his family. Others reminded him of friends and key events in his life. Each one helped him to feel at home light years from the life he'd known.

Before they sat down, she placed two bath towels on his bed to protect it from their wet, dirty clothing. The bed was covered by a quilt his mother had made to commemorate _Enterprise's_ launch. Her Vulcan nose appreciated the subtle scent of lavender. Kathy Tucker had added dried lavender to the batting when she did the quilting, hoping it would calm her son as he lay in bed at night and allow him to sleep.

Kathy had been raised in Mississippi on the southern edge of the Appalachian Mountains. She'd drawn on Appalachian tradition in making the quilt, using a traditional patchwork design called Hunter's Star in a soothing blend of blues and greens.

T'Pol had been intrigued by it the first time she'd visited his quarters. He'd told her his mother had chosen fabrics that would remind him of his family and his earlier life. On each corner, there was a plain navy blue block with words embroidered in gold. The top left corner had the Starfleet motto, "Ad Astra Per Aspera." On the top right, there was the _Enterprise_ motto, "To boldly go where no man has gone before." The bottom left said, "Made for Commander Charles A. Tucker, III, Chief Engineer, _USS Enterprise_, May 7, 2151." He said she'd already embroidered it with the planned launch date when _Enterprise _had launched ahead of schedule. His mother had commented that the ship was just like her son. It was in such a hurry to see what was out there, it made its debut three weeks early.

On the final block, she had embroidered the signatures of Trip's grandparents, parents, brother, and sisters. After the Xindi attack, he had removed the quilt from his bed and stored it where he could not see it. Seeing Lizzie's signature was too painful. T'Pol had considered it a sign of healing when he'd returned it to its proper place a few months before.

She handed him his cup. "I added some tart cherry juice to your orange juice. It should help relieve your muscle soreness."

"Thanks, that sounds great."

She began to drink from her own cup. She appreciated the refreshing sweet and sour flavor of the kaasa juice and the quiet hum of the warp engines. It was a subtle constant presence she'd missed when they were trapped on the planet. She brushed her hand over the soft cotton of the quilt and felt the tiny stitches that outlined each piece. She wondered at the many hours Mrs. Tucker must have spent creating this very personal work of art for her son to take with him to the stars.

At baby Elizabeth's funeral, she had met his parents, but she had been struggling too intensely with her own grief to do more than say a few words to them. She hoped someday she would have the opportunity to truly come to know the family who loved her _t'hy'la_ so much.

When he finished his drink, he said, "Thanks, that juice really helped. I feel a lot better. I'll just take a quick shower and then hit the hay. You should go to your quarters and meditate or get some sleep."

He leaned toward the cabinet beside his bed to put down his cup. He grimaced and stopped reaching forward when his hand was still several inches away. "My back's a little stiff."

She took the cup and placed it on the cabinet. He reached down to remove his boots but couldn't get his hands much past his knees. "Maybe I'll just lie down and wait until in the morning for a shower."

"You at least need to take your boots off and get out of those damp clothes. Let me help you."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

She carefully helped him out of his boots and his uniform. Opening the drawer containing his underwear, she saw it was agreeably organized. As the chief engineer, he needed to be able to locate essential items quickly in the dark. He'd admitted to her, however, that he had a 'junk drawer'. It was filled with 'odds and ends' that he thought he might someday find useful. He'd asked her not to look in there because "it might freak you out." She doubted a mere drawer could damage her Vulcan composure, but she respected his privacy and never looked.

She selected a clean set of Starfleet blues for him to wear to bed. In the same drawer, she found a Florida Gators t-shirt. Under the circumstances, it would make an appropriate nightshirt for her.

"I believe a shower would help reduce your stiffness and allow you to sleep more comfortably, but I do not think it's safe for you to shower alone in your current condition. I will assist you."

He groaned. "T'Pol, you really don't need to do that."

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow and then helped him to stand. They walked into his bathroom, where she assisted him in removing his underwear and took off her own clothes.

She'd seen him nearly naked for the first time in Decon early in the mission. Then he'd aroused feelings in her she'd vehemently rejected. Now she understood, accepted, and even reveled in those feelings. The sight of his muscular body drew her, and touching his bare skin would excite her more. But her eyes were drawn to the contusions and abrasions that covered too much of his body. She felt the struggle in him between exhaustion and desire. It would be illogical to allow their desire to grow when acting on it could cause him further injury. She needed to use all of her control to assist him without causing more pain.

She supported him as he stepped into the shower. Soon the warm water began to ease his tense muscles. As it washed away the dirt, blood, and sweat, his distinctive scent became more pressing on her. Her arousal continued to increase. Knowing how irresponsible it would be to do anything that would further stress his exhausted body and mind, she slammed down her control before she realized how he might perceive that. After all her mistakes, he had a gnawing fear she would reject him. To her, it seemed impossible, but she understood to him it might seem inevitable. Tonight, she must control her desire while letting him feel her deep affection.

The soap in its holder gave off the distinctive smell of sandalwood from the Earth tree _Santalum album. _She inhaled appreciatively as she picked it up. Humans considered the soft, warm fragrance to be calming and conducive to meditation. Oddly, it was also said to be an aphrodisiac. Perhaps it was appropriate that it was so strongly linked in her mind with her _t'hy'la_. He somehow had the ability both to calm her and to arouse her desire.

She made a rich lather and began to wash his back and legs. Moving her hands over his lean, sculpted form evoked powerful, primal feelings. She forced herself to put them aside for later reflection and focused on gently cleansing his bruised and abraded skin. Her touch needed to be light enough not to cause pain, but not so light it would arouse rather than relax him.

As she reached his feet, he gave a deep sigh. "I should return the favor. Turn around and let me wash your back."

He paused for a moment after he lathered his hands. As he washed her back, she got the impression that he was trying to memorize the feel of her body. Through the bond, she felt something like reverence, and she continued to feel his sadness and that puzzling guilt.

When he got to her mid-thighs, he stopped — his muscles were too stiff for him to reach any further. She said, "That is sufficient. I can easily take care of the rest" and turned her back to the spray to rinse off the soap.

They finished washing in silence. She turned off the water and gave him a bath towel. She quickly dried herself so she could assist him. Once he was dry, she smoothed the Dermaline gel on his abraded skin.

She walked him to the bed, where she handed him his clean underwear and then clothed herself in his Florida Gators shirt. He was moving so slowly and stiffly she realized he might not be able to put them on without her assistance. She helped him pull the underpants over his feet and the undershirt over his arms and head.

"I really appreciate all your help, but I'm fine now. You don't need to stay."

"Trip, I do not understand why you want me to leave. Have I done something to upset you?"

He looked shocked and ashamed. "No, no, it's nothing you did. I just didn't think you'd want to stay with me after what I did on the planet."

"What you did on the planet?" she said in a puzzled voice. "You did not do anything that would make me want to be parted from you."

"I didn't come to you when you were shot. You were unconscious, maybe dying, and all I did was dive behind a fallen tree and try to return fire. And then I told Malcolm to leave us there. I didn't know how bad you were hurt. You could have died."

"I am undamaged. There is no need for concern."

"But you could have died, and I didn't do anything." He blinked a few times to fight back the tears in his eyes. "You're the most important person in the world to me, but when you were in danger, I let you stay out there, unconscious, in the open. My daddy would whup my ass for leaving a lady unprotected like that. I can't tell you how sorry I am."

"Were there others in danger?"

"Well, yeah. Bennett was wounded. Mendez was carrying her, and he needed to get to cover. Malcolm said Kishiyama and Miller were hurt, too. The storm was picking up, and there wasn't much time to get the shuttle back to _Enterprise_. I asked the Captain to transport you back up, but the weather was already too bad. That's why I ordered Malcolm to return to the ship without us."

"You did not leave me unprotected. You carried me to safety and kept watch while I was in a healing trance. I do not know what would have happened to me if I had not had you there."

She paused, observing him closely. She hoped he was not too exhausted to understand what she needed to say. "Trip, you are my _t'hy'la_. I will always cherish you, no matter what happens. One of the things I cherish about you is that, in your own way, you live many of the teachings of Surak. I know how desperately you wanted to come to me when I was shot. I would have an intense desire to do the same if you were injured. But you knew you were in command and that the needs of the many had to take precedence over the needs of the few or the one, even if I was the one. You made the hard choice, but it was the right choice.

"If you had chosen to put aside the needs of those injured crewmen, I would have been deeply disappointed. I know the depth of your caring for me. You do not need to prove that. I do not know how I would have lived with the knowledge that others might have died because you chose to turn your back on them to come to me.

"I would have had to leave _Enterprise_. It would have been a bitter thing to leave my home like that. But the only way we can serve together on a starship is if we can trust each of us will do what is needed, no matter what the cost."

He stared at her as if it was almost more than he could take in. "I'd never let you go without me. Unless, of course, you didn't want me near you anymore."

"I do not doubt that. It is very agreeable to know that as much as you cherish me, you will do what must be done. As long as I am able to do the same, that will allow us to remain here together as members of this crew. I believe this is our home and our family, and there is still much for us to do here."

He nodded. "This is our home and our family. I have no doubt you'll do the right thing, no matter what the cost."

She put her arms around him and gave him a gentle kiss. "We both need rest. Goodnight, _t'hy'la_."

He smiled softly and crawled under the covers. "Goodnight, darlin'. I'm glad you've decided to stay."

"I am as well." She carefully spooned herself against him and was soon lulled to sleep by the scents of lavender, sandalwood and her _t'hy'la_.

* * *

Author's notes:

I first encountered the idea that Humans have better night vision than Vulcans in Rigil Kent's outstanding story, "Divergent Paths, " but the idea seems to have originated in a story by Bluenblack.

The curses, etc. in Chapter 7 were taken from YouSwear and the Imperial Romulan Language can find the Hunter's Star quilt pattern and many others (including the one with my favorite name, Love in a Tangle) at Morehead State University's Center for Virtual Appalachia, (cva dot moreheadstate dot edu slash ?p=180 ).

Lavender is an herb in the mint family with many culinary, ornamental, and therapeutic uses. One of its traditional uses is for relieving insomnia.

Thanks again to my wonderful betas, LoyaulteMeLie and DinahD and to everyone who joined us on this journey.

If you're wondering about the hostiles and what they'll do next, watch for the sequel.


End file.
